A Miracle Happens Here
by xfreelifex
Summary: Carter reached up and cupped Abby’s chin, drawing her face closer to his so he could kiss her. “So it’s finally over,” he whispered. Abby blinked back tears. “Tell me we’ll be okay,” she whispered back anxiously. COMPLETE
1. Whatever You Imagine

**I'M BACK!**

**A/N:** I went to Spanish camp for a month, put up with snail mail, no email, no computer, no TV, no SVU or ER and they're still not mine...DAMN IT! (I really do love camp though!)

**A/N:** Yes, guys, I am finally back and this time I am here to stay. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews for _Or Just Look Like One_ and _If I Never Knew You_ (over 160 combined reviews!). So here it is: the promised sequel and final chapter in this SVU/ER crossover trilogy. Once again, _My Heart Will Go On_ and _A Miracle Happens Here_ are the same story. I don't know how often I'll be able to update. Once school starts again in September, updates will be a week apart at the least, but I'm not sure how the rest of August will play out. This sequel is going to be Carby and EO, but EO shippers are going to have to put up with a lot of angst - and I mean A LOT of it. This chapter is not the most happy thing in the world, but I hope that for all of my EO shippers out there (you guys know who you are...) you enjoy this first part with lots of happy EOness in it just for you. All right, enough talk - ENJOY! (And please review!)

Olivia Benson woke up slowly to the sound of the gentle rainstorm outside her bedroom window. She enjoyed the soft pitter-patter noise it made is it kissed her window pane. A distant thunder rumbled heavily. Olivia smiled; she loved the rain.

The buzz of her alarm clock shattered the tranquility of the moment. She sighed and gently shut if off without looking at it; she already knew what time it was - 7:30. Olivia rolled over onto her left side, finding herself facing Elliot. She smiled softly, chuckling at the fact her alarm clock failed to wake him. She kissed him softly on the lips before rolling out of bed and into the shower.

The warm water felt comforting at the early hour. It cascaded onto her back gently, soaking moisture into her skin. Olivia wished she had more time to enjoy the moment, but she knew she had to hurry; she had somewhere to be at 9:00. Olivia finished her shower quickly and stepped out into the humid bathroom. She dried herself and began to get dressed. Olivia shivered slightly in the cold apartment air.

A warm pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist; Olivia turned around, finding herself in Elliot's embrace. She smiled and leaned her head against his chest.

"You looked cold," Elliot whispered as he kissed her. Olivia smiled.

"Not anymore," she said chuckling. She sighed against his neck. Elliot gently squeezed her again before releasing her, allowing her to continue getting dressed.

"What time is it at?" Elliot asked as he began making the bed.

"Erm… 9:00," Olivia said softly. Elliot caught the sigh in her voice. He finished making the bed and then walked over to her, taking her into his arms.

"Hey," he said softly. Olivia had her head on his chest again, her gaze down. Elliot gently tilted her chin up. "Hey," he said again. He kissed her, feeling her relax in his arms. "It's almost over," he reminded her, rocking her slowly back and forth. "This is it, Liv; it's been two months and look how far we've come. After this, it's the upswing."

Olivia sighed. "I know; it's just that…"

"That…what?" Elliot prompted her softly.

"I have to tell her about the dreams," Olivia whispered.

Elliot exhaled, nodding as the memory came back to him. "Olivia continued, "I don't know why they started up again…I mean, the nightmares ended over a month ago. But these dreams are – I don't know – different, somehow…" Olivia's voice trailed off in through. Elliot rubbed her back, making comforting circles with his palm.

"It's okay, Olivia," he said softly. "Tell her about the dreams; I don't think she'll mind continuing with you if you need it."

Olivia nodded. "I know she won't. It's just that…continuing seems so-"

"Weak?" interrupted Elliot quietly. "Liv, I've said it before, and I'll say it again, and I'll repeat it as many times as you need to hear it, but there is nothing – _nothing_ – weak about asking for help." Olivia nodded slightly, closing her eyes and allowing Elliot's words to wash over her. Elliot continued, "You know that Abby is going through the same thing you are." Olivia nodded again. She knew that Carter was worried and that Abby was seeing Dr. Wendall.

"You don't think she's weak, do you?" Elliot whispered. Olivia shook her head immediately; Elliot gave her a knowing smile.

"Then shy do you think that about yourself?"

Olivia opened her mouth to protest, and then hesitated, thinking quickly. She finally smiled and kissed Elliot. "Thank you," she murmured, as their kiss ended.

"You're welcome," he replied. He suddenly smiled a mischievous smile. "I have a surprise for you," he said.

"Do you?" replied Olivia painfully, sneaking another kiss. "What?"

Elliot smiled. "Dinner: you, me, 7:00 tonight."

Olivia laughed. "How is that a surprise?"

Elliot only winked, his eyes twinkling. "You'll see."

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"So how are you doing, Olivia?"

Olivia, who had been looking at the floor, sighed and looked up at Dr. Rebecca Hendrix. Even now, after two months, she still couldn't remember why she had opted not to go to Huang. She knew George Huang would be only too happy to help her, but she found herself hesitating. Maybe it was because he was too close to what had happened, Olivia didn't know. She did know that Elliot had suggested Dr. Hendrix and Olivia had gone with his suggestion. She also knew that if she didn't answer the question soon, Hendrix would go into interrogation mode.

"I'm doing okay," Olivia finally answered.

Hendrix nodded. "I'm glad to hear that." She paused, writing some notes. "How are things going with Elliot?"

Olivia felt herself instantly smile. "Elliot's wonderful; so supportive with everything. I don't know what I'd do without him – I'd be lost without him."

Hendrix smiled back. "That's great, Liv. I'm so happy with all the progress you've been making." She trailed off, looking down at the paper some more. "How are you sleeping? Have you had anymore nightmares?"

Olivia hesitated slightly. "I've been – well, sleeping-wise, I've been okay, but I – uh…" Olivia stopped, unsure of what to say. Hendrix, who had been looking down at the paper, looked up when Olivia paused.

"You…what, Olivia?" she prompted softly.

"I have had more nightmares," Olivia confessed. Hendrix nodded as though she had been expecting this. Olivia continued, "They're different, though."

Hendrix raised an eyebrow. "Different? How so?"

"Completely," Olivia said. "They're completely different. I mean, I used to have ones about the – the abduction – or Bloomberg – or – or things like that, but now…it's nothing like that."

"What's it like, Olivia?" Hendrix asked. "What are the nightmares like? What happens?"

Olivia closed her eyes, trying to remember all the details. "It starts out with roaring, like – like fire. Everyone's shouting, but I can never tell what. I keep looking around for Elliot. I call his name, but he can never hear me. I can't see him either. The only thing I can see is flames, but I walk through them. And then-" Olivia suddenly broke off.

"And then what?" Hendrix urged.

Olivia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The dream changes. I'm in a graveyard, standing over a tombstone. It's always the same tombstone, but the name is always illegible. Suddenly, a ghost rises and begins to walk toward me. I – I try to run, but then more appear. I scream – and then – I'm falling – and I just…wake up."

Dr. Hendrix nodded. "That's a very vivid dream, Olivia. How often do you have it?"

Olivia shrugged. "Um, every night for the past couple of weeks, I think. Sometimes I just get bits and pieces of it, but they make a complete story."

Hendrix was silent as she thought. Finally she asked, "Have you ever dreamt anything past the graveyard?"

Olivia frowned, thinking. "No," she answered finally. "No, I don't' think so."

"Have you had any other dreams that you can remember?" Hendrix inquired.

"Um," Olivia stuttered as she thought back. "I had a dream about Alex the other night – Alexandra Cabot, our previous assistant district attorney."

"What happened in the dream?"

"Not much," admitted Olivia. "IT was much like Alex's last case…accept that this time, we decided to go through with a trial. There were guards everywhere because we were all being threatened. Elliot and I are watching Alex cross-examine the defendant. Suddenly, a shot rings out and Alex falls to the ground. Elliot and I whip out our guns, but then I feel the bullet hit me…and…I wake up."

Hendrix was silent for several moments after Olivia finished as she wrote down some notes. She finally looked up again and said, "Well, Olivia, it seems that you still have some things on your mind. We have-" Hendrix looked at the clock and jumped "-all of two minutes left right now." She pulled her appointment book towards her and opened it. "I have time next Friday at 10:00, if you want that."

Olivia nodded. "That's fine; I'll take it."

Hendrix wrote the information down. "Okay," she said, smiling. "I will see you later, then."

Olivia rose from her chair and walked to the door. "Thank you," she said.

Hendrix smiled. "You're welcome."

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Olivia and Elliot were sitting in the restaurant later that evening. They had already eaten their way through the delicious appetizers, main meals, and desserts, and now they were onto the coffee. Olivia took another sip, feeling the aroma warm her from the inside. She suddenly chuckled as she remembered something.

"What's so funny, Liv?" Elliot asked.

"I just remembered something," she said happily. "You still have to give me my surprise."

Elliot laughed. "Never could've gotten that one around you, now could I?"

Olivia smiled. "Nope."

Elliot returned her smile nervously. "Do you – do you want the surprise now?"

"Um…sure," Olivia said slowly, watching Elliot falter. "Is that…okay?"

Elliot nodded. "Of course," he said softly. He reached down into his jacket pocket. Suddenly, a shrill find cut through the air. Elliot pulled out his cell phone. "Cragen," he mumbled, glancing at the caller ID. He sighed, giving Olivia an apologetic look. She nodded in understanding. Elliot flipped open the phone.

"Stabler…yes, I gave you that file before I left…Well, tell Case to drive over and get it…oh…Okay, we're close to the precinct, we'll do it. Yeah, okay, Cap.' 'Bye." Elliot hung up the phone. "I'm sorry, Liv. Cragen needs a file driven to Casey for the trial and she's out getting a last minute warrant. We're the elected mailmen…"

Olivia leaned over and kissed him. "It's okay," she whispered. "The surprise can wait."

Elliot nodded and he signaled a passing waiter to bring him the check. Once the bill had been paid and signed, Elliot and Olivia rose to leave. They walked slowly to the exit and stepped out into the chilly New York night.

They walked slowly to the car, feeling the air bite at their cheeks and lips. Elliot wrapped his arm around Olivia as they continued walking. A faint ring turned Olivia's attention to her purse. They stopped while Olivia fumbled through it. She extracted her phone, frowning at the caller ID.

"Benson…Casey? Why – oh…" Olivia frowned deeper and looked at Elliot. Turning the phone away from her mouth, she asked, "Do you have your phone with you?"

Elliot paused, thinking, and then instinctively reached into his pocket. He felt around, and then a worried frown crossed his face.

"It's still in the restaurant," he muttered to Olivia.

"That's obvious," she answered. "Casey's tried calling you three times now."

"I'll run and get it quick," said Elliot sheepishly. "Wait for me here?"

"Okay," said Olivia, nodding. Elliot gently kissed her.

"Be right back," he assured her. He turned back in the direction of the restaurant, leaving Olivia alone in the dark alley.

"Did I just hear him kiss you?" Casey's voice came over the line teasingly.

Olivia laughed. "You actually heard it?"

"No," admitted Casey, also starting to laugh. "I just assumed and guessed, apparently correctly."

"You suck, Casey," Olivia replied. She moved underneath a neon light so that she was not standing in the darkness. "He, by the way, left his phone in the restaurant and he went back to get it…what do you need him for anyway?"

"Court," said Casey. "He's testifying tomorrow."

Olivia nodded, though Casey couldn't see. "Sounds fun."

"Yeah, right," Casey replied.

"No, really," insisted Olivia; both she and Casey were laughing. "You know I always have fun testifying for you."

"Sure you do, Liv." Casey laughed. Olivia suddenly froze; the neon light had just gone out. Standing alone in the darkness made her feel very unprotected. She watched the light flicker weakly, casting intermittent neon red shadows. Casey was still talking.

"Okay, Liv," she was saying. "I'll talk to you later; I gotta run-"

A car suddenly turned the corner. Olivia leapt backward, out of the way. The passenger side window was rolled down. Olivia had no time to react as two shots rang out from a gun in the car. The first hit the brick wall behind Olivia, but the second one found its target. Blinded by pain, she could barely hear the car drive away. Her mind spun as she sank down the wall to the ground. She felt herself fading as her cell phone slipped from her limp fingers.

"Olivia?" Casey's voice came over the phone, worried and shrill. "Liv? _Liv?_ OLIVIA!"

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"Yes, thank you, sir," Elliot said to the waiter as he passed to the exit. "I found my phone." HE sheepishly held it up.

"Very good, then," the waiter said as he bowed Elliot out of the restaurant.

Elliot exited and turned in the direction of the alley. He was just putting his cell phone away when it started to ring. He looked at the caller ID and chuckled.

"Casey," he said into the phone, laughing. "What do you-" Elliot frowned and then the color drained from his face. "Oh my god…" Elliot suddenly broke into a terrified sprint. He tore out of the restaurant's shadow and into the darker parts of the alley. As he ran further, he noticed a flickering neon sign casting an eerie red shadow. The sign finally decided to cast its weak light onto the cement; Elliot felt his stomach drop at the sight.

Casey was still on the other end of the line. "Elliot!" she shouted frantically. "Elliot, what the hell happened?"

Elliot dropped to his knees beside Olivia. He grabbed her limp wrist, feeling tears sting his eyes. "Oh god, Casey," he gasped into the phone. "Casey, call an ambulance – now! We're in the back alley off of-"

"I know where you are, Elliot!" Casey shrieked. Her voice was stricken with panic. "Okay, okay, Elliot, I'm going now-"

Elliot shut the phone and turned back to Olivia. The bullet had entered somewhere in her chest. There was blood all over. Elliot whipped off his jacket and pressed it down, trying to stem the horrific flow of blood.

"Who did this to you, Liv?" Elliot muttered desperately as tears slipped from his eyes. He could see how pale her face was, how cold her hand felt in his. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, groping for a pulse. A sharp exhale of relief echoed in the alley as he found it: a threaded, weak pulse, but he knew it meant she still had time. He pressed his jacket harder to her wound and tilted his ear to her mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, straining his ears to hear her breathe. Elliot finally felt a feeble breath blow into his ear. Relieved, he kissed her lips.

Olivia's eyes fluttered barely open. "Elliot…" she moaned.

"Olivia," Elliot gasped. Instinctively, he pressed harder, adding more pressure to the jacket. "Liv, stay with me, okay? Casey's called for the ambulance. They know where we are, honey. They're coming, I promise."

Olivia's eyes had closed again; she shook her head ever so slightly. "It hurts so much, El…"

"I know it does, sweetheart," Elliot said to her. He knew he had to keep her talking; he couldn't risk letting her fade away again. "Liv, stay with me." Olivia shuddered as she moaned in pain. "I know," whispered Elliot, nodding. "I know it hurts, Olivia. Just hold on – help is on the way."

"I love you, Elliot…" Olivia murmured, feeling herself begin to fade again. She allowed herself to go, knowing that if she died, she would die in Elliot's arms…

"No, Olivia!" Elliot begged her desperately, as the tears began to fall faster. "You can't leave me, Liv! I love you; I love you so much!" He took one hand off og her jacket and grabbed her wrist again: her pulse was even weaker than before. He leaned his head to hers and puts his mouth right next to her ear. "I love you so much, Olivia. I can't live without you. Please hold on; stay with me, honey. Don't leave me here like this."

Elliot closed his eyes feeling his tears fall onto Olivia's cheek. He pressed both hands to her wound again; his hands were stained with blood. Elliot was so focused on Olivia, he didn't notice the approaching footsteps. By the time he found himself face to face with the gun of the assailant, he was too numb to react, had no method of protecting himself. The assailant pulled the trigger, forcing the bullet into Elliot's body. As the gunman ran away, Elliot felt himself already growing groggy with pain. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness were the flashing red and blue lights drawing closer, and the last thing he felt was Olivia's body go completely limp in his arms.

**A/N:** Uh huh. Yeah, we're kicking off with a dreadfully evil cliffhanger, I know. Review and I'll get the next chapter out soon!

**P.S.** If any of you are interested in reading Harry Potter fanfiction, I'm writing an HP fanfic with one of my best friends. It's under her account, which is Hermione's Helping Hand and it is called _Harry Potter and the Core of the Wands_. You should all check it out if you get the chance!


	2. Gravity

**A/N:** I own nothing...but hey, considering it's nearly 2:00 in the morning, I have lots of stars to wish on. Maybe if I wished on all of them...

**A/N:** Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers for my first chapter: obsessedwithstabler, onetreefan, thutinha, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, OElvrs4life, Alicat Sanders, Dramawitsvu17, CarbyLivesOn, and Kaydence Rei. You guys made my day with your awesome reviews, even if you all think I'm evil. Okay, so this chapter is more of a filler, but it sets a lot of stuff up. Oh - and don't kill me about the ending, 'kay? Enjoy, and please review! And please excuse my mistakes...I don't think there are that many, but if there are, I'm sorry. :)

The sirens echoed loudly in the sleepy city as the ambulance raced through the streets. Turning corners rapidly, the two EMTs watched as the flashing red and blue lights illuminated the dark alley.

"Where did that lawyer say she was?" one of the EMTs asked his partner.

His partner, who was driving, had her hazel eyes narrowed as she strained to see through the darkness. "Somewhere in this alley; I think we need to go a bit further down."

"What's that there?" the male EMT asked as he spotted something in the shadow of a neon red light.

The driver sped up and nodded. "That's her." She frowned as they raced to the dark figure in the shadow. "Seth, do we have another gurney?"

Her partner Seth checked quickly. "Yes…why?" Seth looked out the large window. "That's – impossible. Liz, I thought we only had one!"

Liz nodded as she stopped the ambulance and leapt out. "Me too." She grabbed a kit and ran to the woman. "Oh god, this looks bad," she muttered. Seth brought the gurneys over and they loaded the man and woman into the ambulance. Liz jumped into the front seat of the vehicle and slowly turned around, driving out of the alley and racing through the streets to the hospital.

Seth remained in the back of the ambulance with the two victims. He checked the vital signs of the woman first; her pulse was weak, but her heart was still going. She wasn't breathing, so he had intubated her and now kept squeezing the bag of oxygen to supply her lungs with air. Seth could see that her condition was dire; he was grateful the hospital was only a few more minutes away.

The man, on the other hand, was in better shape. His heartbeat was stronger, and he was still breathing, even though he was unconscious. The bullet appeared to have hit him somewhere in his leg, but Seth was pretty sure it hadn't hit any major arteries. He continued to watch the woman in concern as they pulled into the ambulance bay.

Two doctors whom Seth recognized to be Brian Frye and Margaret Christy came running out to meet them. Seth pushed open the doors and lowered out the gurney with the woman first. The doctors immediately received it and Seth began rolling off information as Liz jumped out of the driver's seat to help with the man.

"Female in her mid-thirties, haven't found a name yet, gun shot wound to the abdomen area. Weak pulse, wasn't breathing when we found her; she's been bagged and intubated." He handed the chart to Dr. Christy who nodded and rolled the woman in, assisted by a medical student.

The other doctor was waiting for the second victim. Seth lowered out the other gurney. "Male, also looks to be in mid-thirties, also haven't found a name. This one wasn't called in, but we found him next to the woman in the alley. GSW to the leg; still breathing." Seth handed off the other chart to Dr. Frye who took it and began to roll the gurney into the hospital.

Liz looked at Seth. "What happened to that coat that the woman had on her when we found her?"

"It's still in the back," Seth replied. He retrieved it from the back of the ambulance and looked through the pockets for a wallet. "It must have been his coat," he muttered, looking at the driver's license he found in it. "Elliot Stabler," he read aloud. Seth continued looking through the pockets and then extracted a detective's badge. "Oh boy," he murmured. "He's a cop."

Liz nodded grimly. "We'd better tell the doctors to call NYPD."

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Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak paced her office nervously. She had already called 911 and Elliot had found Olivia (or so it sounded like). The operator said an ambulance would be arriving on the scene soon. Casey could only hope it would be soon enough.

She had already left messages for all of the detectives and Cragen telling them to call her as soon as possible and now she was playing the waiting game. Casey hated the waiting game. It made her anxious and made her worry even more. She tried to pull one of her cases towards her, telling herself that she had to concentrate; she was supposed to be in trial the next morning.

The shrill sound of her desk phone ringing jerked Casey out of her nervous stupor. Grabbing the phone quickly, she answered, "Casey Novak."

"Casey, it's Cragen." The captain sounded exhausted. "You told me to call you?"

Casey was relieved someone was finally talking to her. "Have the hospitals been in contact with you at all?"

"What?" Cragen asked, confused. "Casey, what are you talking about?"

"It's urgent, Don," Casey said nervously. "Something happened to Olivia when she and Elliot were out tonight. He told me to call 911, and so I did-"

"WHAT?" Cragen's interjection interrupted Casey's nervous rambling. "Casey, how…?" Cragen's voice died in his throat as the full impact of what Casey was saying hit him. Cragen suddenly heard faint beeping from another line: he had a call waiting. "Casey, I've got another call coming in; it might be them. I'll call you back."

Casey nodded, forgetting that Cragen couldn't see her. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll-" Cragen had already hung up the phone. Casey began to pace her office nervously again, twisting her hands. She didn't even try to work on her case for trial; she had already given up on concentration.

Cragen called back quickly. "It's bad, Casey," he said solemnly when Casey picked up her phone. "It's really bad. They found Elliot with a woman – I told them the woman was Olivia – they've _both_ been shot."

"What?" gasped Casey. "But – but that's impossible! I just talked to Elliot right before I called the ambulance!"

She heard Cragen sigh on the other end of the line. "It must have happened after you called…they're in bad shape. They said Elliot took it to the leg, but Olivia was bleeding out by the time they got there."

"Oh god," Casey whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes. "I can't believe this…Who would hurt them this badly?"

"I don't know," said Cragen, sighing. "We've got to get to the hospital," he murmured, his voice trailing off. Casey knew that he had bitten back was he was going to add next: _I don't want them to die alone. _

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"Damn it; she's crashing!" Dr. Christy shouted to her team as the heart monitor began to shriek. "Charge the paddles!" The button was pressed and the paddles were charged. "Clear!" She pressed the paddles down to the woman's chest: no change. "Charge again!" she demanded.

The woman, so Christy was told, was a detective by the name of Olivia Benson. The EMTs informed her that the detective had been found with her partner. He was in better condition, they said. Christy looked worriedly at the blood loss the detective was sustaining. She couldn't find an exit wound for the bullet, which meant that it was still lodged somewhere.

"Clear!"

The entire team looked at the monitor this time in hopeful, yet nervous anticipation. Christy let out a huge breath of relief; the detective had her rhythm back. Suddenly, the glass doors of the trauma room swung open and another woman entered, wearing blue scrubs – a surgeon.

"How is she doing, Maggie?" the surgeon asked as she came in.

"Stable enough for transport," Christy responded. The surgeon immediately took the gurney and raced with the detective up the stairs and to the elevator. Christy watched them leave, hoping that the woman was strong enough to make it through the ride up in the elevator.

Dr. Christy sighed as her team began removing their trauma scrubs, masks, gloves, and began to clean up the mess. She left the room quickly, trying to find information about the detective's partner.

She found the male detective in a trauma room surrounded by doctors. She walked up to Dr. Frye and asked, "How is he doing?"

Frye sighed. "He's stable…enough. He's still unconscious though." Christy nodded. "And the woman – Detective Benson?" Frye inquired.

"Just went up to surgery," Christy responded quietly. "We couldn't find an exit wound for the bullet."

Frye nodded grimly. "Sounds serious." He walked over to the other side of the gurney, making notes on his chart. "NYPD coming down?"

"They've been called," Christy said softly. She tucked a lock of stray brown hair behind her ear. "What happens now?"

Frye sighed and looked at the monitor again. "Now we wait."

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The man stepped out of his car and shut the door slowly. He looked up at the sign at the front end of his car where he had parked: Visitor parking, Mercy Hospital. He clicked a button on his key chain; the car locked itself with a small beeping sound. Straightening his tie, he picked up his briefcase and went into the hospital. His shoes made loud footsteps on the linoleum floor.

He walked right up to the admit desk and looked over at the desk clerk. It was a young woman with red hair, looking to be about in her twenties. The man hoped she would be smart enough to lead him where he wanted to go with enough time.

"May I help you?" she asked him.

"I'm looking for Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson," the man said. His voice was a deep rumble. "Perhaps you could tell me where they are?"

The young woman looked at him uncertainly. "Are you family?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The man shook his head and took something out of his pocket. Showing it to the woman, he said, "Let's just say that I have some unfinished business to take care of."

The woman looked at the item the strange man showed her and her eyes widened. Nodding hesitantly, she said, "Yes, of course, sir. It looks like Ms. Benson is in surgery, but Mr. Stabler should be in room…128."

The man had already begun to walk off before the woman finished her sentence. "Thank you," he called hastily over his shoulder. He walked quickly through the maze of the hospital to the room with Elliot Stabler. He would have to take care of his business there first.

Two people were in Elliot's room when the man approached it. They appeared to be doctors: one male and one female. The male doctor was bent over a chart. The man rapped on the glass a few times to get their attention. The male doctor looked at the other doctor, who nodded, and then he left.

He opened the door slowly to face the other man. "Are you Dr. Brian Frye?" the man asked him in his deep, gruff voice.

Frye nodded uncertainly. "Yes, I am."

The man didn't even blink. "Are you the doctor in charge of Detective Elliot Stabler?"

Frye was even more confused. "Yes," he answered slowly.

"May I ask about his condition?" the man inquired.

Frye frowned. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name. Are you family?"

The man shook his head no and pulled something out of his pocket. Frye took a long look at it and then nodded to Dr. Christy, who was watching the scene from inside the room.

"We need to talk," the man said.

Frye nodded. "Of course, sir. We can talk in here-" Frye's words were suddenly cut off by the shrill cries of Dr. Christy.

"Brian!" she called frantically, bursting through the door. "Brian – come quick! He's seizing!"

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"Damn, I hate hospitals," Fin muttered as he, Cragen, Munch, and Casey all settled down into the uncomfortable waiting chairs.

Munch sighed angrily. "They never tell you anything here, do they? It's like some big conspiracy. They just have to keep all the information away from you, don't they? Don't want you to get any ideas. I can't see how Carter and Abby can stand working here-"

"Carter and Abby!" Cragen suddenly exclaimed, clapping his palm to his forehead. "We should tell them."

Casey looked at her watch. "You could still call them tonight; they're an hour behind us."

Cragen nodded vaguely. "Yes, I think I will do that." He pulled out his phone and walked down the hall to a peaceful spot – at least, a _more_ peaceful spot, as in one with no screaming children or nurses and doctors darting left and right. Sighing, he found the number Carter had given him to call in case of any more problems. It pained Cragen that the only time he ever called the two of them, he always had terrible news.

The line rang several times before going to voicemail. Cragen let out a huge breath he had been holding as he heard Carter's voice begin to roll on the tape; _they must be at work_, Cragen figured.

"Hello, you've reached Drs. John Carter and Abby Lockhart. We're unavailable right now, so please leave your name, number, and message at the tone, and we will return your call. Thank you." The tone sounded its 'beep' sound.

Cragen cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Hi…Abby, Carter…this is Don Cragen in New York…" Cragen's voice trailed off and he hesitated, wondering what to say. He cleared his throat again, searching for words. "I'm calling because…there has been a –a shooting." Cragen's voice suddenly got a lot softer. "We don't know who the shooter is, but he hit Elliot and Olivia. The doctors haven't told us anything, except that it was…pretty serious." Cragen cleared his throat again and tried to prevent the tears from trickling down his cheeks. "Give me a call when you get this, all right? Take care." Cragen ended it there and hung up his phone. He was wiping his eyes on his sleeve when Fin suddenly appeared.

"Cap'!" Fin called. "There are two doctors here who want to talk to us!"

Cragen immediately stood up and followed Fin's hurried footsteps back to the waiting room with Munch and Casey. The doctors were sitting, but they stood up when Cragen entered.

"I'm Dr. Frye, and this is Dr. Christy," introduced the male doctor, indicating himself and his female companion. Cragen nodded slowly.

"What can you tell us?" Cragen asked as he and Fin sat down.

Dr. Christy spoke up first. "I was in charge of Detective Benson." She sighed. "When she came in, she was in pretty bad shape. The bullet had no exit wound, so once she was stable, we transported her to surgery. She's up there right now."

The group nodded slowly, worry increasing. "What are her chances?" Casey asked quietly.

Christy sighed. "I'm not sure; we'll know more after the surgery. If she survives the surgery, she has a good chance of recovery."

Casey swallowed hard. This did not sound good.

"And Elliot?" Fin asked softly, interrupting the silence. He was already dreading the answer.

The doctors exchanged brief glances with each other, and then Dr. Frye spoke up. "I was in charge of Detective Stabler," he began slowly, "…and I'm sorry to inform you that…he didn't make it."

The group fell into shocked silence. Cragen could've sworn his heart skipped a beat. Frye was still talking softly. "He was more stable than Detective Benson when he came in…the bullet had made an exit from his leg…he began seizing when he was in the recovery room, which deprived his lungs of oxygen, and…we couldn't get him back."

The detectives and Casey listened to his explanation without moving. They didn't say anything; what could be said?

"I'm sorry," Dr. Christy added softly.

But they just nodded. What else could they do? Nothing else mattered, no apologies, no explanations, nothing could change what had happened…Elliot was dead.

**A/N:** _Gasp!_ Another evil cliffhanger! Well, review lots this time and I'll get the next chapter up soon - if I don't have writer's block again.

**P.S. **Harry Potter fans should check out _Harry Potter and the Core of the Wands_ by Hermione's Helping Hand. Thanks to Drop Dead Saxy for reviewing!


	3. Remember Me This Way

**A/N:** THEY'RE MINE, THEY'RE ALL MINE...Okay, I got nothing.

**A/N:** Thanks to my wonderful reviewers from last chapter: KaydenceRei, AussieChick, Neela149, onetreefan, princess-dreamer, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, AliasCSIFriendsER, obsessedwithstabler, thutinha, OElvrs4life, and estrelitalovesSVU. I enjoyed all of your reviews, despite the fact you think I'm an evil. Well, guys, this chapter is going to be even more evil. I'm sorry, but it is. Mysteries are resolved from last chapter and you will feel a bit of relief, but I'm sure you will all hate me by the time you are done with it. But enjoy it and please review!

This chapter is for Drop Dead Saxy for helping me work through all the writer's block and for inspiring me to add additional twists and really play with your minds. And also for Mi Estrelita (Cilla) for listening to me last night. Love you both!

Drs. Frye and Christy sat in the waiting room having just finished informing the detectives and lawyer of Elliot's fate. They waited in painful silence as the group slowly broke down around them.

"When did it happen?" the captain asked quietly.

Frye cleared his throat. "Less than an hour ago; shortly after Detective Stabler was moved to the recovery room."

"Did he suffer?" the attorney whispered, tears running down her cheek.

Christy shook her head. "He never regained consciousness after the bullet…I don't think he felt very much pain."

The group nodded slowly, allowing the words to wash over them. "Does Detective Stabler have any family we should contact?" Frye asked.

The captain nodded. "He and his wife are divorced, but he also has four children."

Frye and Christy nodded. "We can call them, if you would like," Christy said softly.

The captain nodded again, but didn't say anything else. "May we see him?"

Frye cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow that. His body has already been moved."

The captain sighed. "When we will receive news on Detective Benson's condition?"

It was Dr. Christy who answered. "I will go check on her in surgery, if you want."

The group nodded. "Thank you," the attorney whispered.

Frye was suddenly distracted by his pager going off. He glanced at it and then looked at Dr. Christy. "Maggie," he said softly, nodding his head at her. She returned his nod, eyes full of understanding. "I'm sorry, we must go," Frye said, holding up his pager. "Duty calls." He and Christy left walking quickly down the hall. The page had been their signal.

Elliot was awake.

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Elliot felt himself regain consciousness slowly, as though he was just waking up from a century of sleep. He could feel a heavy pain in his leg somewhere around his thigh, and his mind was groggy as he tried to clear it.

_Where am I?_

Elliot's eyes snapped open as the memory suddenly came flooding back to him. He was lying on a rather lumpy hospital bed with immaculate white walls. The room had no windows. Elliot glanced around and saw a tall, strange man sitting in the corner of his room. Elliot narrowed his eyes, trying to place the man, but eventually had to give up: his head hurt too much.

The strange man rustled his newspaper as he turned a page. Looking up from his paper, he noticed Elliot was awake. He didn't smile or make any other gesture towards Elliot; rather, he merely closed his paper and sent a page. Once it had been sent, he went over and stood at the foot of Elliot's bed.

"Nice to see you're awake, Detective Stabler."

Elliot didn't even ask how the man knew his name. He just looked at the strange man waiting for him to say something else.

"I'm Eric Thompson – Agent Eric Thompson," the man introduced himself, showing Elliot his badge. Elliot glanced at it and the nodded slowly.

"Olivia…" he moaned.

Agent Thompson nodded. "She's here too," he assured Elliot. "The doctors can fill you in when they arrive." Thompson looked out the window to the hospital hallway, as if expecting them to materialize all of a sudden. There was a soft knock on the door and then it was opened and two people, a man and a woman, entered. Thompson nodded approvingly; _right on time._

"I'm Dr. Frye and this is Dr. Christy," introduced the male doctor. "I'm glad to see you're awake, Detective."

"Call me Elliot," Elliot muttered.

"How is the pain…Elliot?" Frye asked. "Can I get you anything else for your leg?"

Elliot shook his head. "The pain is fine."

Frye nodded. "Good, good." He looked expectantly at Thompson.

Thompson cleared his throat. "What happened?" Elliot asked suddenly, before Thompson could begin.

Thompson looked directly at Elliot and began in his deep voice. "You were shot. The EMTs found you and Detective Benson in the alleyway. She's still in surgery," he added, noticing Elliot was about to ask.

Elliot nodded as he tried to process the information quickly. "Will she survive?" he asked quietly.

Dr. Christy shrugged slightly. "We will know more after the surgery."

"The important thing now is that you're safe," said Agent Thompson. "You are, officially, dead; the unit has already been informed. Elliot Stabler no longer exists; from now on, you will have a new identity…"

Elliot frowned as his head spun. There were too many questions swirling around in his head; he didn't even know which one to ask first, so he came up with the one word to sum it all up. "WHAT?"

Thompson, who had been talking still, suddenly paused and looked at Elliot. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Elliot took a deep breath and let it exhale slowly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Thompson looked at him sternly. "Listen to me, Detective Stabler. We have a ticking clock. We are entering you into the Witness Protection Program. It has already been finalized. Your unit has been informed of your death already."

Elliot felt his head start to spin again. He was _dead?_ _Witness protection?_ "Why?" he asked. "Why are you doing this?"

Thompson leaned in closer to Elliot. "Do you remember a Richard White, Detective?"

Elliot nodded slowly. "Creep after Olivia…we locked him up years ago. Unless…" Elliot's voice trailed off as the realization hit him. "He hasn't been _released_, has he?"

Thomson shook his head. "No, he hasn't been released…he has escaped."

Elliot felt the color drain from his face. "When?" was the only word he could get out.

The agent shrugged. "A few days ago; we still have yet to track him down. However, with the attack on you and Detective Benson last night, we can safely say he was in New York."

"But," Elliot stuttered, "but – witness protection? Can't we just get a – a restraining order on him – or something – like that?"

Thompson shook his head again. "I'm afraid not. You are better off dead. We know White will stop at nothing until he kills you both…it's better this way."

"And Olivia?" Elliot had to ask.

"As for Detective Benson, arrangements have yet to be made. We are waiting for news on her condition. It is still unclear whether or not she will live."

Elliot frowned. "I'm not going to leave without her."

Thompson appeared to be taken aback. "Excuse me?" he asked Elliot. "I don't think you're going to have much of a choice."

"I'm not going to leave without her," Elliot repeated.

Agent Thompson looked helplessly at the two doctors. "I don't know if that will be possible," Dr. Christy said slowly. "We don't know enough of Detective Benson's condition to make that kind of guarantee."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot snapped.

"There may be complications after the surgery," Christy continued. "She may not be stable enough for transfer."

Thompson decided to step back in at this point. "Detective Stabler," he said. He handed Elliot a large file. "Meet Matthew James. You're going to learn everything in this file. We will wait only a short period for news on Detective Benson's condition, but we are not going to make any guarantees. Do we understand each other?"

Elliot nodded and Thompson nodded back at him. "Good."

Dr. Christy's pager suddenly went off. She unclipped it from her belt and looked at it, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It's surgery," she announced. "Detective Benson is out of surgery and in the recovery room."

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Elliot came to the room slowly, accompanied by the two doctors and Agent Thompson. The agent went into the room first and had a quick word with the surgeon who was writing a chart. Elliot and the doctors waited outside, but Thompson was quick. He returned and spoke quietly, but severely to Elliot.

"They're going to let you sit with her. She's in a private room, but she's hooked up to lots of machines, including a respirator."

Elliot nodded, though the thought of Olivia on machines was terrifying, heart wrenching. "That's fine," he said quickly. "I just want to see her."

The door opened and the surgeon poked her head out. "Detective?" Elliot nodded; the surgeon smiled a small smile at him. "You can see her now," she said softly. Elliot stepped eagerly forward. "Dr. Christy," Elliot heard the surgeon say as the door was closing. "I need to speak with you…"

Elliot entered with his heart pounding. Olivia was lying on the hospital bed; indeed, she was hooked up to many machines. He approached her slowly and took a seat next to her bed. He gently took her hand.

"Hey Liv," he greeted her softy, giving her fingers a squeeze. "I'm so glad you're out of surgery," Elliot said. The surgeon hadn't told him whether or not Olivia could hear him, but Elliot decided to keep talking anyway. "You had me so worried out there in the alley, Liv. But you're so strong and I know you're going to make it through this."

Elliot sighed as he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. "Guess what, Liv?" he whispered to her. "I'm – I'm going into the Witness Protection Program. "It's – well, it's complicated, honey. Richard White-" Elliot swallowed hard. "White, Liv, he – he escaped from prison. The feds think he's the one who shot us, and now I have to go away." Elliot opened the large file Agent Thompson had given him. "Do you want to know about Matthew James, Olivia?" Elliot asked her. "That's my new identity. Let's see…he has no siblings, no wife, and his parents died years ago. Well, that's pleasant," Elliot remarked comically to Olivia. He sighed and continued reading. "Matthew James is…a social worker? Oh man, Liv, if you thought me being a janitor was bad, being a social worker is so much worse. And get this – he's a social worker in a hospital. He works at-" Elliot suddenly read the name of the hospital and his voice died in his throat.

"Liv," he whispered. "He works at County General Hospital – in Chicago!" Elliot suddenly felt excited. He was going to be working at the same hospital as Carter and Abby. He smiled sadly at Olivia.

"I love you so much, Olivia," he whispered into her ear. "The feds are going to take me away soon. They say that they're not sure what will happen to you yet. You have to wake up first, sweetheart. I don't want to leave you, Liv, but they're not going to give me much of a choice. I – I don't want to say good-bye to you like this, Olivia." Elliot kissed her cheek. "I want to see you smile, hear your voice…or your laughter. I love you, Olivia. Please give me the chance to say good-bye for real."

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The surgeon led Drs. Christy, Frye, and Agent Thompson over away from the room, allowing Elliot to have a moment alone with Olivia. They talked as they walked down the hall.

"So how is she doing?" Dr. Christy asked.

The surgeon sighed. "The surgery went well, which is good. We removed the bullet from her stomach and managed to clot the bleeding…" her voice trailed off.

"What happened, Julie?" Christy asked the surgeon. "Why are you hesitating?"

Julie sighed. "She crashed on the operating table. We managed to get a rhythm back, but she was down for at least fifteen minutes."

Christy frowned. "What are you saying?"

"She's in a coma," the surgeon replied glumly. "She's in a coma and we don't know when – or if - she will wake up." The surgeon paused as Agent Thompson exhaled loudly. "We, of course, don't know where that leaves her in the program…"

"Elliot is adamant about staying with Olivia," Frye said. "I don't think he's going to leave without her-"

"He'll have to," interrupted Agent Thompson forcefully. "People are reluctant to enter into the program all the time, but we can't make all these exceptions. If Detective Benson is indeed not going to regain consciousness for an indefinite period of time, we have no choice but to leave her here. Detective Stabler will enter into the program and Detective Benson will remain here."

"But how are we going to get Elliot to leave her?" Frye argued. "Couldn't he just remain here for a few days just to see if Olivia's condition improves at all?"

"No," replied the agent. "That is absolutely not allowed. We have a ticking clock, Dr. Frye, as I explained to the detective earlier. The longer he stays, the more danger he puts himself and Detective Benson into. Detective Stabler is going to leave now and that's final!"

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Elliot heard the door open behind him. Turning around, he saw the two doctors and the surgeon enter. "Agent Thompson would like to have a word with you," Dr. Christy told Elliot. He passed her as he left the room.

Agent Thompson was waiting for him right outside. "We're leaving now, Mr. James," he said, using Elliot's new name.

Elliot frowned. "Why?" he asked angrily.

"Detective Benson's condition is very grave," Thompson told him slowly. "She is in a coma, and the doctors do not know when – or if – she will regain consciousness."

"_If?"_ cried Elliot outraged. "What do you mean 'if'?"

Thompson sighed angrily. "I mean that the doctors don't know how long it will be before she regains consciousness and that we don't have that kind of time to wait. The longer you stay, the more danger you're putting yourself – and Olivia – into. We must leave immediately-"

The rest of Thompson's words were suddenly drowned out by a shrill shrieking of a machine inside Olivia's room. Elliot felt his heart stop as he heard it. Without another look at Thompson, he yanked open the door and rushed inside.

The shrieking stopped immediately; the doctors had switched off the machine. "No!" cried Elliot. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Dr. Frye shook his head sadly. "I am so sorry, Mr. James," he began, also using Elliot's new name, "We lost a rhythm."

"BUT WHY ARE YOU JUST LETTING HER DIE?" Elliot roared. "Save her! The machine just started shrieking; you can get her rhythm back! Why aren't you trying; why aren't you helping her?"

"There's nothing we can do," Dr. Christy told him slowly. "She was in a coma, Mr. James. There was nothing we could've-"

"STOP CALLING ME 'MR. JAMES!'" Elliot yelled.

Frye put a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "I am very sorry for your loss-"

"You feel nothing," Elliot snapped back at him. "Don't tell me you're sorry; tell me you can save her! Try to save her – please! I love her!" At these words, Elliot suddenly broke down. "I love her," he sobbed over and over again. Elliot sank onto the chair and sobbed.

"I'll give you a few minutes alone with her," Dr. Frye said softly. He led the others in the room out, leaving Elliot alone with Olivia again.

Elliot continued to sob feeling as though the tears could never stop. He couldn't believe that he was losing everything at once: his identity, his job, his friends, and now…Olivia. He cried for his losses; he took Olivia's hand in his again and kissed it.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this, Olivia," he whispered to her through his tears. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to live; I was supposed to marry you!" Elliot pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a gorgeous golden ring.

"I was going to propose to you that night at the restaurant," he whispered. He felt more tears run down his cheeks as he brought the ring to her hand. "I've loved you from the day I first met you, Olivia. Without you, I feel so alone, like the other half of me is missing. After everything we'd been through with Bloomberg, I can't believe it has to end this way." Elliot let out another loud sob. "I will love you until the day I die, Olivia," he told her as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He kissed her fingers, and then gently placed her hand onto her stomach. Even through his tears, he smiled sadly. The ring looked so beautiful on her slim finger.

The door opened behind him and Agent Thompson entered. "All ready, Mr. James?" he asked.

Elliot nodded spiritlessly and more tears slipped down his face. He gently kissed Olivia on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "I will love you forever, Liv." He then stood up and followed Agent Thompson from the room. He took one last look at Olivia as the door shut, closing Elliot off from his old life as Detective Elliot Stabler, and reluctantly opening the next door of his new life as Matthew James.

**A/N:** Please, don't hurt me! It's all for the plot, I promise! Just keep that in mind, okay? Next chapter is going to be mostly ER, and yes there will be plenty of Carby for all my Carby fans out there. I hope to have it up soon!

**P.S.** Thanks to Estrelita for reviewing my HP story, _Harry Potter and the Core of the Wands_! Love you, carina!


	4. Whenever You Call

**A/N:** I guess some dreams just aren't meant to come true... 

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I'm going to have to use this excuse one of my best friends told me: For all of you whom I told I'd be updating "soon," I just want you to know that "soon" is a relative term. What's "soon" for me isn't necessarily "soon" enough for you and vise versa...Okay, enough crap. Point is, it took me much too long to update and I'm really sorry. Unfortunately though, you guys better get used to it, because starting with this chapter, I'll be posting once a week, if even that. We'll have to see how busy school gets and stuff, so hopefully I'll be able to maintain that goal...Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it and please review!

This chapter is mostly filler, alhtough I did decide to leave a cliffhanger at the end. It's not too evil though, I don't think. I guess you guys can tell me. LOL! It is mostly ER too, and Carby fans, this first scene is for you.

This chapter is dedicated to anyone whom I made cry in the last chapter, and I know there were quite a few of you. But especially you, mi Estrelita, for always begin there to talk to late at night and for giving me back my inspiration. Te amo con todo mi corazon.

**I am so sorry! Reposted because I forgot to thank all my wonderful reviwers from last time! (It's late guys, please forgive me - it's like 2:30 in the morning!) Anyway, thanks to princess-dreamer, OElvrs4life, onetreefan, KaydenceRei, martantos, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Drop Dead Saxy, Neela149, WuHaoNi, obsessedwithstabler, CarbyLivesOn, Agnes, Kelly of the midnight dawn, lawandordergal, and estrelita lovesSVU. Sorry again, guys; your reviews were all wonderful!**

"All right, Mrs. Peterson," Carter was saying to the elderly black woman whom he was about to discharge, "Just take one of these pills every day for the next two weeks, and you should be good as new."

"Oh, thank you, Doctor," she said, nodding at him.

"No problem," replied Carter as he gave a small smile at Sam, the nurse, and then left the exam room, pushing back the curtain as he left. Carter checked his watch; it was nearly 6:00. He walked quickly through the slowly emptying hallway to the doctors' lounge.

"Hey, Carter!" Frank called as Carter passed him. "Got a patient here for you-"

"No, thanks, Frank," Carter said to him, "I'm off at 6:00." Carter grinned as he heard Frank sigh and call over Dr. Lewis instead. Carter continued to his destination and pulled open the door.

Abby was standing with her back to him facing her locker. Carter smiled and came up from behind her, wrapping his long arms around her waist.

"Hi," he whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck.

Abby felt herself grin. "I'm surprised you're off so early," she remarked as she turned around in his embrace and kissed him on the lips. "Board not too busy, then?"

Carter shrugged. "Guess not," he replied with a smirk. "How was Wendall?'

It was Abby's turn to shrug. "She says I'm making progress," Abby replied dully.

Carter gave her a sympathetic smile. "You know it's going to get better, right?"

Abby sighed, but she nodded. "That's what everyone keeps saying."

"Yeah?" asked Carter as he kissed her again. "That's because it's true." Abby gave a small chuckle. "So what do you want to do tonight?" Carter asked.

"We're actually going to go and do something?" Abby asked, surprised. "What's gotten into you today?"

Carter smiled. "Nothing…I was just thinking about going dancing?"

"Dancing?" Abby actually laughed out loud. "Carter, can you even – I mean – do you even know how to dance?"

Carter suddenly swept Abby off her feet and dipped her. He pulled himself down to her face and stared into her deep brown eyes. "I'd have to say so," he whispered before kissing her yet again.

"Okay, I believe you, Carter," Abby said as they broke apart. "But I still don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" Carter pretended to be genuinely upset.

Abby leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I don't think it would be good for the baby."

Carter almost dropped Abby in shock, but caught her just in time. He pulled her back to her feet, his eyes wide. "Are – are you serious?" Carter stammered. "You're – you're pregnant?"

Abby grinned. "Just found out this morning."

Carter grinned back at his wife and then kissed her again. "Abby, that's wonderful!" he exclaimed excitedly. "How far along are you?"

"Just over two months," she replied happily.

"Wow, must be what, a honeymoon baby or something?" Carter asked jokingly.

Abby nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I think so."

Carter laughed. "Oh, Abby," he sighed happily. "I'm so excited!"

"Me too," said Abby. "Hey, you know? We should make Olivia and Elliot the godparents!"

"Great idea," said Carter, "considering they pretty much set us up in the first place."

Abby chuckled. "That's why I thought of them."

Carter nodded. "We should give them a call." Abby nodded and Carter kissed her on the cheek. "But first…we're going out to celebrate."

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Carter and Abby returned home a few hours later, bringing with them cartons of leftover Chinese food. Abby deposited the cartons on the kitchen counter before going to the answering machine. She frowned when she saw the number on the machine.

"Hey…John?" she called. "We have tons of messages on this thing."

Carter came over and looked at the machine. Seven. Seven new messages. _This cannot be good,_ he thought worriedly. Tentatively, he pressed the playback button. He and Abby listened to the tape rewind itself before stopping at the beginning.

_Beep._ "Hi, Abby; it's Susan. I was just calling to see if you wanted to have some coffee with me tomorrow before your shift…Call me back." _Beep._

_Beep._ "Hello, John." Carter sighed and rolled his eyes at Abby; it was his mother. "There's an event down at the-" _Click._ Carter pressed the fast-forward button and the tape began to wind itself.

"No point listening to that," he remarked to Abby, who laughed.

_Beep._ There was a slight pause after the noise this time. Finally a man's voice came over on the tape. "Hi…Abby, Carter…this is Don Cragen in New York…" Abby looked at Carter, her eyes instantly wide and terrified. A call from Cragen was never good. Carter bit his lip, waiting for the message to continue; Cragen was hesitating. They finally heard him clear his throat and then the message continued. "I'm calling because…there has been a –a shooting." Abby felt all of the air in her throat leave her. She gripped down hard on the table for support. Carter's expression was horrified. Cragen's voice suddenly got a lot softer. "We don't know who the shooter is, but he hit Elliot and Olivia. The doctors haven't told us anything, except that it was…pretty serious." Abby felt tears begin to burn in her eyes; she blinked and they began to fall. Crater wrapped his arms around her as the message ended. "Give me a call when you get this, all right? Take care." _Beep._

"Oh god," Abby whispered as the machine went on to the next message. "John, you don't think that…?"

Carter cut her off by pressing a finger to his pale lips. He pointed to the machine to indicate his reason. _Beep._ "H-hi," a woman's voice came over the tape. Abby vaguely recognized it as Casey Novak, but the voice was hard to make out because it was choked by tears. "I'm…um, well Don wanted me to call you…" Abby could've sworn she was so nervous her heart had stopped beating. Beside her, Carter was listening intently. "We've received news on Elliot," Casey finally said, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry…" she said before her words were dissolved in tears. "I'm so sorry…" _Beep._

Abby felt herself slide to the floor, her head in her hands. Sobs shook her body, and Carter dropped down and wrapped his arms around her, though he was crying too. Even though Casey hadn't explicitly told them Elliot was dead, the message was still pretty clear.

_Beep._ "I'm sorry," Casey's voice came again. "I never finished the message…" Her voice trailed off as Abby and Carter continued to wait in dreadful silence, save Abby's occasional sob. Casey cleared her throat. "Elliot…passed away a few minutes ago. The doctors said he was making progress, but he had seizures, and…they couldn't bring him back…" Abby screwed her eyes shut as the full weight of what Casey was saying set in. Elliot was dead. _Beep._

_Beep._ This time, there was a long pause before any words came over the answering machine. Finally, Cragen's voice came over the line. The defeat in his voice was so obvious, his tone so solemn, that it shamed the gravest funeral march. "Olivia died." _Beep._

Abby absolutely dissolved in tears after she heard that. Carter couldn't take any more messages, so he pressed the stop button, and the tape stopped playing.

"Why?" Abby screamed. "Why - how could this happen? How could they just die like that?"

Carter shook his head. Never before had he felt so hopeless. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do that would change what had happened. It was hopeless.

"I don't know, Abby," he whispered, in sharp contrast to her shrieks. He stroked her hair as he held her close to him, as though his embrace could protect her from the horrors they were experiencing.

"Who would do this to them?" she cried. "Why did they have to die?"

Carter could see how hard Abby was taking this, especially Olivia's death. He knew how close Abby had grown to the two detectives, how much they meant to her…and to him.

"We should call Captain Cragen," Carter said softly, reaching up and grabbing the phone from the counter. "We should see if we can get any details of what happened."

As Carter had reached for the phone, he had noticed the message that had been left unheard. He knew they should listen to it, but he couldn't bring himself to listen to another message about death; he knew the message was just another call from New York informing them of the deaths…

How very wrong he was.

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It took him awhile to realize that his phone was ringing. He was still in shock over what the doctors had just told him, still numb with the pain that he couldn't bring himself to believe was real. It was on one of the final rings that the shrill melody of the phone finally registered with him.

"Cragen."

"Hi…it's Carter." Carter's voice, broken with disbelief and constricted with grief, came over the line. Cragen swallowed hard.

"Dr. Carter," he said, "I am so sorry…." Cragen's voice cracked.

"What happened?" Carter asked. "Did it happen in the line of duty?"

Cragen shook his head. "No," he said, his voice full of a bitter sadness. "And it would almost have been better if it had." He sighed heavily. "It happened when they were out to dinner, in the back alley outside the restaurant."

"That's horrible," Carter gasped. "Who – who would do such a thing?"

Cragen shook his head helplessly. "The feds suspect this perp Olivia had some trouble with years back. Guy's name is Richard White. He brutally murdered an ADA – we got him for that. The feds say he escaped though…" Cragen's voice suddenly caught in his throat. "He always had this thing for Olivia. It was right after she joined the unit too, but she handled it pretty well." Cragen's voice suddenly broke and he found he couldn't continue; the memory was just too raw and painful.

"I'm very sorry," Carter muttered. Cragen could tell the doctor was hurting just as much as the other detectives in his unit. He could only imagine what Abby was going through.

"The funeral is in a few days," Cragen told the doctor dully, remembering what Casey had said about informing Carter and Abby. "I'm sure it would've…meant a lot to them if you came…"

"We'll be there," Carter said softly.

Cragen nodded absently, forgetting that Carter couldn't see him. "They would have been so happy." Cragen cleared his throat and dug around in his pockets for a tissue to dab at his tearing eyes. "We'll have someone meet you at the airport, if you'd like."

"Sure," said Carter slowly. "That would be fine." Cragen could hear the break in his voice.

"I'm sorry you and Abby have to return under such grim circumstances," Cragen mumbled. "I'm sorry it always has to be like this."

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Carter hung up the phone a few moments later and turned to Abby, who was watching him with wide eyes. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but his muscles wouldn't allow him to. The only thing he could do was to take her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

"What happened?" she managed to ask, when she had calmed down a bit.

Carter sighed heavily. "Cragen said it's related to an old case – one of Olivia's first SVU cases. Apparently the guy escaped, wanting revenge and…" Carter's voice trailed off.

"When is the funeral?" Abby whispered.

"A couple of days," answered Carter. "I told Cragen we would be attending."

Abby nodded. "That's good."

"When do you want to leave?" Carter asked gently, stroking her hair.

Abby shrugged. "As soon as possible, I guess."

Carter nodded. "I'll see if there's a flight out tonight."

Half an hour later, after Carter had booked two tickets on the last flight out to New York (leaving just before midnight), and Abby had finished packing the bags, the two of them left their dark house. Abby had left a message with Weaver at work telling her they were going to be gone for a few days and that she would explain everything later. She couldn't bring herself to explain everything now, not when the loss was so fresh in her mind. Abby was completely silent as Carter drove to the airport and led the way through the crowded terminal. Tears glossed over her dull brown eyes, and even Carter's reassuring hand on hers did nothing to ease her sorrow. She faded away from him, allowing herself to grieve silently. She leaned her head back against the cool window of the plane, watching raindrops splash upon it from the outside as they began to take off to New York again.

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Back at the Carter mansion in Chicago, a can of pencils above the answering machine began to shake with a growing thunderstorm outside. The hard tin rattled against the counter as it shook; finally, gravity found its mark and the can toppled over. Pencils littered the floor and the can hit the answering machine with a loud thud. The rain continued to roar outside as though the whole world was crying.

_Beep._ A deep voice laughed softly. "I'm back…"

_Beep._

**A/N:** -Gasp!- Another cliffhanger. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed reading and please review. I'd love to know what you think.

For anyone interested, I wrote another oneshot called _Crash and Burn_. It's kind of like a post-Wrath fic, but no Kathy. Check it out if you get the chance.

Also, I wrote another obsession quiz, this time for ER. The link is on my profile page, for your enjoyment!


	5. Beautiful Goodbye

**A/N:** I own nothing. I bet my dog has about the same chance of owning them as I do...and he doesn't even care about EOness! LOL!

**A/N:** Thanks to my wonderful reviewers from last time: estrelita lovesSVU, onetreefan, KaydenceRei, princess-dreamer, obsessedwithstabler, Neela149, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, lawnadordergal, Danielle, AliasCSINYFriendsER, CarbyLivesOn, SVU 101, lijep, Dr. Sophi Carter, Abbey06, and Kelly of the midnight dawn. Like always, your reviews were awesome and I cherish them all. I'm really sorry for the delay in this chapter. School was busy last week (first week, you know), and then I had lots of things to take care of over the weekend. So sorry again for making you guys wait so long and I hope you enjoy this chapter. It is a tearjerker, by the way.

Estrelita mia...What more can I say? This chapter is for you (again, I know LOL). You helped me so much with all my writer's block, especially by giving me some lines to use. I always love our late night chats. Te amo mucho y muchas gracias!

_Wind howled around the dark alley where she was standing. It rattled the old windows of the building as she ran inside it for shelter. She had just pulled the heavy door shut when the wind abruptly stopped. There was dead silence._

_Or was it silence? She thought she could hear a faint noise – almost like flickering – coming from somewhere nearby. Tentatively, she began to walk through the old building; her heart racing, her breath almost choking her as it continually caught in her throat. She shivered violently, as though suddenly grabbed by the cold hands of death. The feeling did nothing to ease her wariness._

_She continued through the building, still seeking the source of the strange flickering sound. It became louder as she continued down a dark hall to what looked like a door. The flickering had now transformed itself into a roar as the door came closer. She found, however, when she reached the door, that it wasn't even a door at all._

_It was a window; a large window showing a view of the back alley. As she looked through it, her breath caught in her throat. A woman lay on the cold concrete in a puddle of blood that was growing at an alarmingly fast rate. It seemed strange that a fiery sound had led her here, and yet, now that she was here, she could neither see nor hear any trace of a fire. The only light was cast from a blinking street lamp._

_The light suddenly died, plunging her and the entire alleyway into darkness. She gasped in fear._

"_You're next, Abby…" The most terrible voice, as though of fire itself whispered these words fiercely. Without warning, a building down the alley burst into flame, illuminating the alley once more._

_Abby was petrified; she couldn't move. She watched in horror as the buildings around her were rapidly engulfed by flames, all moving towards her. The roar was so great, so loud; it pounded from inside of her. The alley became a flood of blood as the woman's wound continued to bleed. The concrete was completely stained red; the flood had permeated the entire way. Abby tried to scream, but she could not find her voice. Suddenly, the building next to hers caught fire, followed by her building. She had nowhere to run, no way to escape. She could only hear the roar of the flames, see the river of blood flow, carrying the lifeless body of the woman with it…_

"_Remember me?"_

_Abby was suddenly whipped around by a pair of strong hands. She took one look at who had spoken and then let out a blood-curdling scream. _

"Abby!"

Carter was jolted awake by the sound of her shrieks. He quickly looked to his right and saw that Abby was screaming at some unseen terror, presumably in a nightmare. He began to shake her awake, deeply concerned by the look of terror twisted on her face.

"Abby," he said urgently, shaking her by the shoulder. "Abby, wake up! It's just a nightmare…" Carter squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore Abby's shrieks, which had suddenly become louder and higher pitched.

"Abby," he said again, his eyes still closed, "wake up-" The screams suddenly stopped, replaced by silence. Carter opened his eyes slowly. He looked at Abby. Her mouth was open, her brown eyes wide and terrified. Suddenly, she burst into tears.

Carter immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her trembling body close to his. She buried her face in his chest as her sobs continued to pierce the air.

"That was…so…scary," she gasped. "There was a river of blood…and fire – lots of fire…"

"Shh, Abby," Carter whispered, gently kissing her head. "It's okay…It was just a dream – a nightmare…"

Abby's sobs eventually began to quiet and Carter could feel her start to relax in his arms. He had his cheek on her forehead, so he couldn't see if she was still awake or not. If she was, she wasn't talking. Carter sighed. He was so worried about how quickly Abby had withdrawn herself. She had barely spoken to him on the plane, didn't say anything past a salutation to Casey Novak when the attorney had picked them up at the airport. He could see the pain in her eyes, but he couldn't make it go away. The helplessness killed him.

The funeral was to be tomorrow. Carter could already feel a lump rising in his throat at the thought of the two detectives being lowered into the cold ground. Everything had happened so fast, Carter wished he could slow down time and spend hours mulling over it all. He had, after all, only known the detectives for about three months. And now they were gone.

_Gone…_Carter felt the word echo in his head as though someone had screamed it down a dark tunnel. _Gone…gone…gone…_Carter closed his eyes slowly, against the tears threatening to fall. He hugged Abby closer to him, wondering how everything had happened so fast, how he had lost so much in such a short time…

It all became too much for him to keep inside. Carter suddenly let out a sob, which cut through the silent air. He pressed his head down to Abby's harder. He thought she was asleep, but then he felt her snuggle deeper into his chest. Though she didn't speak, Carter knew she was trying to comfort him. He smiled faintly.

At least they still had each other.

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_I pray you'll be our eyes  
And watch us where we go  
And help us to be wise  
In times when we don't know_

Captain Donald Cragen walked solemnly up to the front of the assembled group. He looked out at the large crowd of people that had come to honor the loss of two of New York's finest. It was a sea of black, with every eye either looking at him or the two closed coffins to the side of him. He swallowed as he approached the microphone, fighting back his tears.

"Hello," he said softly into the microphone. "My name is Captain Donald Cragen and I had the pleasure of working with two incredible detectives in my unit. It is such a tragedy that it had to end this way…" His voice suddenly broke and he heard several sobs coming from the audience. He caught sight of Abby; tears were already pouring down her face.

"Detective Elliot Stabler and Detective Olivia Benson exemplified everything the NYPD stands for. Dedication. Compassion. Unity. Friendship. They came to work every day prepared to do whatever it took to bring a little more justice to the world. We hope that their legacy can be continued."

_Let this be our prayer  
As we go our way  
Lead us to a place  
Guide us with your grace  
To a place where we'll be safe_

Cragen cleared his throat. He felt tears burning in his eyes and decided he could not hold them back any longer. He felt them begin to trickle down his face as he continued. "But even though they were excellent at what they did, they never did it for anyone but themselves. In the end, they were not detectives, nor crusaders, nor super heroes. They were just being themselves, doing what they loved. They went to work every day because they loved what they were doing. It doesn't matter how many perps that busted or how many victims they helped. They loved what they were doing. And that's about the only thing that matters."

_La luce che to dai  
I pray we'll find your light  
Nel cuore restero  
And hold it in our hearts  
A ricordarchi che  
When stars go out each night  
L'eterna stella sei_

Cragen finished his speech to applause from the crowd. With a slight nod, he left the front, walking back to his seat in the front row. He saw Carter squeeze Abby's hand as she walked tentatively up to the microphone.

"Hi," she said uncertainly. "My name is Abby Lockhart, and I'm an ER doctor at County General Hospital in Chicago. You're probably wondering what I'm doing here." Her tone was soft, fragile, thought not yet broken. She continued, "My husband-" she indicating Carter "-and I have only known Olivia and Elliot for a short time. I met them a few months ago when my mother and brother died in New York. Their determination and commitment is something that I will always admire."

_Nella mia preghiera  
Let this be our prayer  
Quanta fede c'e  
When shadows fill our day  
Lead us to a place  
Guide us with your grace  
Give us faith so we'll be safe._

"It's amazing how much you can learn from a person and how quickly you become close to them. For me, I grew very close to Olivia. She taught me to never give up. She showed me that no matter how many times I've been beat, or how many scars I bear, giving up is never an option. She was a fighter, never willing to give in – Elliot was the same way. As hard as it is for me to believe that they are gone, I know they have never truly left us. They will always be with us in spirit, like angels standing by. They have touched so many lives…I hope they touched yours." Abby's voice suddenly broke. "I – I know that they touched mine." She closed her eyes against the wave of tears that had now taken over. The audience began to applaud again as Abby walked back to her seat.

_Sognamo un mondo senza piu violenza  
Un mondo di giustizia e di speranza  
Ognuno dia la mano al suo vicino  
Simbolo di pace e di fraternita _

La forza che ci dai  
We ask that life be kind  
E'il desiderio che  
And watch us from above  
Ognuno trovi amore  
We hope each soul will find  
Intorno e dentro a se  
Another soul to love

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Carter held Abby's hand as they stared at the two new mounds that marked the graves. One could barely tell it was dirt that covered the mounds; indeed, mourners had buried all of the dirt in colorful flowers. The funeral was over, but they still hadn't left yet. Carter figured they were the only ones left. They stood in silence together for awhile, until a voice from behind them broke it.

"It's so hard to believe they're gone."

Carter and Abby turned around slowly. They weren't the only ones left. Casey Novak was standing behind them, her pale face still streaked with tears.

Abby nodded. "It is."

Casey sighed as she drew level with Carter and Abby. "It's unfortunate that you only knew them for a short amount of time. I've only known them for about two years." She chuckled sadly. "I remember my first case in SVU. I didn't think I was going to make it through, and Olivia and Elliot-" she chuckled again, smiling at the memory "-well, they didn't like me." Carter's eyes widened; he looked almost amused. "They had just lost Alex, so I suppose they had a reason…"

"Who's Alex?" asked Abby curiously.

Casey bit her lip. "The ADA before me. She…is in the Witness Protection Program, actually."

"Wish that would happen again," said another voice from behind them. John Munch drew level with the small group in front of the graves. He sighed heavily. "I never imagined it would end like this – for either of them. They're probably the best team SVU has seen in a long time."

Casey nodded slowly. "You're right….even if they didn't like me at first."

Munch chuckled. "I almost forgot about that." He sighed and then smiled mischievously. "I could use a good laugh," he told Carter and Abby. "Tell me about Elliot being a janitor and Olivia being a ditz."

He actually got Carter to laugh and Abby to chuckle softly. "We had to interview Olivia for her job," Carter began. "I asked her to tell me about herself – meaning her background and experience – and she told me her birth date and how much she liked dogs."

Casey and Munch laughed, and even Abby joined in. Carter smiled at the sound of Abby's laughter. It was still tainted with sadness, but he could also hear the beginning of healing. Carter had once heard that whether one is sick or sad, laughter is the best medicine. He wished that if laughter would make Abby as carefree and as happy, even, as she was right now, he could give her all the laughter in the world.

_Let this be our prayer_

_Let this be our prayer_

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Matthew James leaned back against the cool leather of his seat. He closed his eyes, which had recently lost their grayish blue color to a rich brown. He rubbed the top of his head, and was still momentarily surprised to come in contact with hair. He sighed; some things he just couldn't get used to.

Beside him lay a large file of information – his life's story, really. It was about to become his one and only friend in a few minutes, the only traces of a past he knew barely anything about. His old past was long behind him, with the loss of….He forced himself to push it out of his mind.

"We're here, Mr. James," the driver said, suddenly breaking the monotony of his thoughts.

Matthew nodded. "Thank you."

"County General Hospital," came another voice, as the car pulled to a stop.

Matthew opened the door slowly and looked around the brisk Chicago morning. He smiled slightly to himself.

_Back again._

_Just like every child  
Just like every child  
Needs to find a place,  
Guide us with your grace  
Give us faith so we'll be safe  
E la fede che  
Hai acceso in noi  
Sento che ci salvera_

**A/N:** Please review, I'd love to hear what you think. I will hopefully get the next chapter up this weekend. I'm sure you'll all love to know what happens...some of you may already know. :)

Oh, and the song used was The Prayer by Josh Groban. Yes some parts are in Italian, but my area is Spanish, so you'll just have to deal without the translation for a few of the lines. Most of them are translated anyway in the song.


	6. Only In My Dreams

**I'm back!**

**A/N: **Still not mine.

**A/N: **And I'm updating early! I've had this chapter done for awhile, but I wasn't sure if I was satisfied with it, so I waited on it and began writing chapter seven. (And for the record, I didn't end up changing anything in this one.) Chapter seven is actually almost done too, so I decided to post this one now. I'm sure no one would object, right?

I know it's been a long time, everyone. I'm very sorry. I took a break from writing for awhile because of a real-life issue. It's still playing a role in my life, which means updates will be at seemingly random intervals. I'm planning to have them coincide with my days off from school (which will seem random to anyone who doesn't attend it).

But I should thank all of my wonderful reviewers from last time! Thanks to obsessedwithstabler, AliasCSINYFriendsER, OElvrs4life, CarbyLivsOn, WuHaoNi, onetreefan, KaydenceRei, lijep, XxCarbyxX, Abbey 06, Sam, MeoW03, estrelita lovesSVU, Kelly of the midnight dawn, and Kate Taylor.

I have some important people to thank for this chapter...

**Drop Dead Saxy,** for listening to my endless ranting about...well, anything really. **Estrelita,** for being so supportive and understanding. **Kate,** for being my shelter in the rain. **Kay,** for making me laugh like a hyena. **Kelly,** for driving me insane with hints and clues and guessing games. Maybe you can pull off another brilliant theory with this chapter, Detective! **Lijep,** for keeping in touch (And I will have chapter nine for you soon!) **Mandi,** also for keeping in touch and for finally beginning to write a Carby story! And, last but not least, **Rach,** for sharing your awesome story ideas with me. I can't wait to read your next chapters!

All right, all right. Talk is done (if you're still reading, that is) On with the chapter!

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_Heat; it was all she could feel at first. It danced across her skin, taking with it all moisture. She turned her head trying to avoid the painful heat, but received no relief._

_Slowly she became conscious of the great roar of fire around her. She opened her eyes, staggering to her feet quickly so as to escape the flames. Fear gripped her as she realized she was trapped. She could see nothing around her, save the great flames of red and orange._

_Her throat was parched; she tried to wet her mouth, but her tongue would not bear it. Frantically she searched for a way out, but could not see one. "Elliot…" she whispered, knowing she had to find him. "Elliot…Elliot…ELLIOT!" Her whispers became screams, though it was unbearable to her throat. No matter how loud she cried, Elliot could not hear her._

_The flames were becoming unbearably hot and dangerously close. Without warning, one licked her hand. Horrified, she pulled her hand to her chest and examined it closely. There was no burn. Stunned, yet curious, she took a step closer to the wall of fire. She held her breath and stepped through the flames. They did not burn her, and she continued to walk through them, blinded by the dazzling colors, walking…walking…_

_It was silent. The flames had stopped as though someone had shut them off with a switch. She blinked several times, trying to take in the new scene that had materialized before her._

_She was standing in a graveyard. A strange mist hung over the wilting flowers, chilling her to the bone. Tombstones in stages of various decay surrounded her. The deathly silence was beginning to drown her as she shivered violently – unnaturally violently. She stepped backward and stumbled upon another gravestone._

_She leaned closer, trying to read the blurry letter. She frowned; no matter how much closer she leaned, she could not make out the letters. She was so close, she could touch the gravestone. Suddenly a faint rumble was heard and she rather thought she felt something move beneath her feet. Scared, she back up, but before she could get completely off the stone, she was thrown backward to the ground._

_The tombstone cracked and – without separating the stone – a ghost appeared. Her breath caught in her throat and she scrambled to her feet. The ghost began walking towards her, arms outstretched and reaching to grab her. She continued to back away, but stumbled over twigs. Suddenly, there were more cracking noises and more of the 'ghost' began to appear. She didn't recognize any of them; their facial expressions were blurred. Fear cursed through her as the apparitions came closer. She screamed. They froze._

_She continued to scream as the scene slowly changed to black. She felt herself falling...falling…She felt weightless as gravity worked to pull her back to the ground._

"_I…will…love….you…forever…Liv…" A faint voice echoed as she continued to fall…falling…freefalling…_

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The young doctor walked briskly thought the hallway to the third floor meeting room. He was to be meeting an important man whom he had called with most miraculous news. The doctor turned the corner and opened the heavy door.

The man was already seated, talking slowly and carefully to someone on his cell phone. Upon seeing the doctor enter, however, he quickly said goodbye and closed the phone. "Dr. Wright, I presume?"

Dr. Sampson Wright smiled as he nodded at his quest. "And you must be Agent Thompson?"

Agent Thompson nodded and shook her young doctor's hand. "I hear you have some good news."

Wright smiled widely. "It's truly amazing what happened, sir."

"Can you explain it?"

Wright shrugged. "Not really. I mean, she was in a coma, but it wasn't impossible that she would wake up again."

Thompson nodded. "So the question now is…what do we do now that she is awake?"

"There is something else you should know, sir," interjected the doctor. Thompson, who had been shuffling through some papers, looked up. Wright took that as a sign to continue. "She has no memory of the incident, sir."

Thompson's eyes widened, but he looked undeterred. "Isn't that a good thing, Doctor?"

Wright shook his head. "It's not just the incident; she doesn't remember _anything_ – not even her name. She can't remember anything before the incident either. Her mind is essentially blank."

Thompson frowned thoughtfully at these words. "Are you saying," he began slowly, "that she has no recollection of Olivia Benson?"

"Precisely," Wright said, nodding. He frowned. "She is very distressed by her memory loss; we're going to have to help bring her memory back."

"But the questions still remains," Thompson said. "What are we going to do about the WPP?"

Wright shrugged. "That's what I was going to ask you about."

Thompson leaned back in his chair, thinking intently. He glanced at a couple of his paper, going through them almost absentmindedly. "What if," he began slowly. "What if we taught her about her new identity instead of Olivia Benson?"

Wright frowned deeply. "I don't know about that sir-"

"Nonsense!" interrupted Thompson. "You detached her form the heart monitor to get it to shriek and to make her partner think she had died. You have been with us right from the start." The agent noticed Wright was still looking wary, so he continued slowly, "She's going to be entered into the program anyway, and she'll be given a new identity. Why should you spend so much time teaching her about an old life she'll just have to forget? It's easier this way; learning one life is certainly easier than learning two. Why should she learn about a woman who is legally dead?"

"Because that's who she is!" cried Wright, getting abruptly to his feet and slamming his hands onto the table. "Don't you think she deserves to know who she really is? She has a right to know about her life! This isn't right; it isn't ethical-"

"Ethical?" snorted the agent. "This is a matter of life and death and you're concerned about _ethics_? She will die being Olivia Benson!"

Wright sighed angrily. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to strangle the agent. He knew the agent was concerned about Olivia's life; hell, they both should be. Wright sighed again. The agent definitely had a point: this was a matter of life and death and Olivia Benson, for her own safety, had to be dead. Wright gritted his teeth together and opened his eyes. "You make a good point," Wright told Agent Thompson slowly. "Being Olivia Benson is too dangerous." Wright sighed a final time and decided to make one last ditch attempt. "What if her memory comes back?"

Agent Thompson didn't answer, but stood up and pushed the file towards the doctor, realizing that he had won. He smirked and, grabbing his coat from his chair, walked to the door. Upon opening it, he looked back at the young doctor, deciding to answer the question. "Make something up." With that, he stepped out into the hallway, leaving the bewildered doctor behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dr. Wright opened the door to his new patient's room slowly. She was on the bed, leaning back against some pillows, her brown hair falling in front of her face. Wright approached her cautiously.

"I still don't remember anything." The woman's voice was bitter and sad. She didn't look up at the doctor.

Dr. Wright drew up a chair and sat beside the bed. "I'm sorry to hear that." The woman looked at him with empty brown eyes. "But hey," he said, wanting to cheer her up. "Guess what? I found out your name."

A spark of hope flashed across her eyes. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"Rose Carmichael," the doctor told her.

Rose frowned. "The nurse called me Olivia," she started, confusion filling her face.

Wright shook his head. "I'm sorry; the nurse made a mistake. Your name, according got your driver's license, is Rose Carmichael."

Rose nodded slowly. "And what's your name?"

Wright smiled. "My name is Dr. Wright – because I'm always right!" He laughed; a small smiled played across his patient's lips. His catch phrase always seemed to get a smile from event he grimmest face.

Rose looked at him intently. "Do you know why I lost my memory?"

Wright cleared his throat. "You were in a coma for a week."

Rose frowned. "How did I get into a coma?"

Wright hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "It was very late at night and the lights on the highway you were driving on were very dim." He cleared his throat, and then continued softly. "A large truck ran a stoplight and crashed head on into your car. The driver of the truck was killed instantly, and later test showed his alcohol intoxication was practically off the charts. You were taken to the hospital, having sustained severe head injury. You slipped into a coma on the operating table."

Rose took the words in slowly; Wright could see the pain in her eyes. Slowly, she looked down at her hand. A gold ring gleamed up at her from her finger. She looked up at the doctor, terrified.

"Where is my husband?" she whispered. Her words were barely audible, as though she were afraid of the answer.

Wright sighed. "Your husband passed away a few years ago to cancer," he said softly. He looked sorrowfully at Rose.

Tears filled her eyes slowly. "What was his name?"

"Luke," Wright told her gently. "I am so sorry."

Rose blinked. "I don't remember him anyway," she said bitterly. A few stray tears slipped slowly down her cheek.

"Hey," said Wright, in an effort to cheer her up. "Don't worry; you memory will come back…"

"And what if it doesn't?" cried Rose, allowing tears to overtake her now.

Wright put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't think like that, Rose," he told her. "This will take time, but you will be able to remember eventually."

"Will you – will you help me?" ash asked him earnestly.

Wright nodded and smiled. "Of course I will. I am here to teach you how to be – well – how to be you, I guess. I will help you regain some of your memory and we'll be doing exercises to stimulate your memory and see if we can't get it back for you, huh?"

Rose smiled. "When do we begin?"

"Right now," Wright answered. He pulled out a clipboard and a pen. "I want you to lie back for me, Rose. Lie back, and close your eyes." He watched as she slowly lay down on the bed and closed her eager brown eyes. He smiled. "Clear your mind," he said softly. He watched in silence as her body relaxing, her hands unclenched and her muscles sank into the bed. "Good," he whispered. "Now, Rose, your eyes are closed, but you're still looking into space. All space has a color. What color do you see?"

She was silent for several moments before finally murmuring, "Orange."

"Orange," Wright repeated. "Tell me about the orange."

"Um…it's moving slightly…"

"Flickering?" the doctor offered.

"Yeah," answered Rose. "It's flickering…it's like fire…" Her voice was rising in excitement.

"Do you hear anything?" Wright questioned. "Can you hear the fire?"

Rose shook her head. "No…I hear…shouting…"

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Rose Carmichael lay back down on the bed after the doctor had left. She rather liked the doctor: with his easy smile and spirited personality, eh was definitely a bright spot on her dark horizon. She sighed and pulled the blankets up to her chin, shivering slightly in the chilly hospital room.

Her mind was still as blank as ever. She tired to remember – even strained herself, as though her strong will and determination would make her memories come back – but her mind remained as empty as she felt.

Unconsciously, she began to twirl the ring on her finger. Her fingers were slightly swollen, as though they had grown fat during the period she was incapable of using them. Her mind wandered to what the doctor had told her earlier.

"_Luke,_" he had said her husband's name had been. And he had died of cancer. Three years ago. _Would she ever remember those years?_ Tears leaked from her eyes as she began to cry again. At least she hadn't forgotten how do to that.

She tired to picture Luke. She searched her empty chamber of a mind for anything – a smile, a laugh, a voice – that would remind her of him. She couldn't' remember anything.

She traced her hands across the healing scar on her abdomen. She frowned, wondering how that had gotten there. _Was it from the accident?_ She made a mental note to ask Dr. Wright about it when she saw him tomorrow. It felt rough beneath her sot fingers. Suddenly, Rose felt a hard push on her abdomen, as though someone was pushing against it with increasing pressure. She gritted her teeth together at the sudden burst of pain. Quickly, she moved her hands away.

The weird pressure feeling confused her even more, but Rose could feel sleep coming. Deciding to add it to the growing list of things to ask the doctor tomorrow, she closed her eyes and slowed herself to drift into slumber.

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_A pale red light cast a weak shadow onto the concrete. A woman stood in the shadow, talking on a cell phone. The image was blurry; it was hard to make out exactly what happened next. Suddenly, however, a loud crack resounded and the woman fell. The image became increasingly more blurry, and now faded in and out. A man, blurred in outline, approached her. She saw his face drain slowly in color as he dropped to his knees beside the woman. The image faded to black slowly as the man pressed his hands to the woman's bloodstained abdomen…

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_

**A/N:** Okay, people, you know what to do. Leave lots of reviews and I will update again on Friday! In the meantime, I wrote an angsty Carby oneshot called _Too Late_ (thanks to those of you who reviewed). Next chapter is Carby angst galore! 


	7. Mere Image

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN!**

**A/N:** All right, so for my Halloween costume, I'm gonna be Dick Wolf! YES! I OWN LAW AND ORDER: SVU...ahem, no. I don't own ER either. Damn it.

**A/N:** Blame the review alerts. I was going to update a few weeks ago, but then the alerts were down. They were down a few days ago too. But I was determined to update, so now I am. Thank you Kelly of the midnight dawn, SVU101, obsessedwithstabler, onetreefan, Kate Taylor, Abbey 06, Drop Dead Saxy (twice! LOL), Lijep, WuHaoNi, KaydenceRei, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Jenny, and CarbyLivesOn for being the awesome people I like to call reviewers. You all rock!

So...here is the Carby angst, as promised. ENJOY and please review. :)

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Carter awoke suddenly to the sound of Abby whimpering next to him. He rolled over onto his side to face her. Her eyes were closed, but she was crying. Carter knew she was having a nightmare and he wanted to wake her, but Dr. Wendall's words floated back to him

"_What she needs now is sleep, Dr. Carter," Dr. Wendall told him. "You don't want her to get sick/"_

_Carter shook his head. "What are these for?" he asked, referring to the prescription Wendall had handed him._

"_Sleep medication," she answered. "It will help her fall asleep, but nothing can prevent the nightmares."_

"_What should I do if she has more nightmares?"_

"_Don't wake her," Wendall told him. "She has to be able to sleep through them."_

Abby's whimpers became higher pitched. It pained him that he couldn't make the nightmares go away; he couldn't even shake her from her terrifying fantasy world. Gently he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her shaking body closer to his.

He held her in his arms for awhile, feeling her tremble in his embrace. He gently wiped away the tears that were occasionally sliding down her cheek and stroked her hair.

"You're so beautiful, Abby," he whispered to her. Her whimpers became louder and she suddenly began to moan.

"No…no…" she moaned as her sobs increased again. Carter tightened his grip around her. He leaned his head to her ear and began to whisper words of comfort.

"You're so beautiful," he told her again. "You're smart, and funny, and absolutely amazing. You're so strong Abby; you can make it through this." She continued to tremble in his arms. Carter sighed.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you, Abby. Wendall said that you have to sleep through your nightmares. You don't know how much it pains me to see you hurting like this. I swear I would make it go away in an instant if I could."

Carter stroked her hair slowly, letting the brown and gold strands flow through his fingers. Her head felt warm, but her body was cold. Wendall had warned him against fevers. Carter bit his lips and tried again.

"I know it seems real, Abby," he whispered into her ear. "It probably seems so real that it's like living the horrors all over again. Is it Richard? Push him from you mind, Abby. He's dead, remember? I promise you he can't hurt you anymore. Bloomberg can't hurt you anymore either. He's dead too. No one else is going to hurt you."

Carter gently kissed her temple and traced his lips down her cheek. "Think about Olivia," he told her. Carter didn't know how he had suddenly thought of using Olivia, but he had run out of other ideas and he had remembered Abby's speech at the funeral about Olivia's strength. "Think about Olivia," he repeated, murmuring against her cheek. "She's so brave; so courageous, so strong. She faced a fair amount of terror in her life, and she still made it through. I know you're strong too, Abby. You're strong, just like Olivia."

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"You look like hell, Abby."

Abby's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. She found Neela's dark eyes looking at her with concern.

"Gee thanks," she mumbled. Neela smiled sympathetically.

"Didn't get much sleep, huh?" Neela asked. "Carter looks really tired, too." Abby only nodded vaguely. "Are you…okay?" Neela asked, dropping her voice.

Abby sighed sadly. "Been better," she replied honestly.

Neela looked at her, worry clouding her eyes. "I'll be off in an hour…I can finish your shift for you, if you want. You look like you need some sleep."

"I-" Abby began, but she was cut off.

"Abby!" Weaver's voice cracked like a whip. "Can you come here a moment?"

Abby walked away from Neela without saying another word to her. She approached Weaver slowly.

"Let's talk in here," Weaver said kindly, directing Abby into the doctors' lounge. Abby walked in and sat down at the table.

"So," began Weaver as she took the seat opposite Abby, "how are you holding up?"

Abby shrugged. "All right, I guess…"

Weaver considered her a moment, and then said softly, "If you need any more time off-"

"Thanks," Abby said, cutting off her boss. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

Weaver was silent for several moments. She remembered how it had been in this room that she had broken down in Abby's arms after Sally had died. She remembered how the younger woman had held her as she cried. Now Weaver could see the same woman sitting in front of her, having faced more loss, trouble, heartache, and terror than Weaver had faced in her entire life.

Weaver sighed, coming out of her stupor. "Well," she said finally, "you know what to do if you need anything." Abby nodded vaguely. "You up to handling a patient?"

Abby nodded again and took the chart that Weaver handed her. Weaver smiled at Abby, and then left the room. Abby glanced at the chart to find the room number and then she too left the lounge.

She found the old man in an exam room, waiting silently and staring into space.

"So, Mr. Allan; what can I do for you?" Abby asked softly.

The man looked at her slowly, but didn't seem to see her properly. His blue eyes seemed to have a far away feel to them. "I need you to help me."

Abby smiled uneasily. "I will do my best; what do you need help with?"

The man suddenly pulled a blood stained knife from his coat pocket. Abby jumped back from him in alarm. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, and then he began to cry.

"I don't know why I did it," he sobbed. "One minute, she was cooking, and the next, she was on the floor…" Abby quickly went to the phone and dialed the number for psychiatry.

"They made me do it!" Allan shrieked irrationally. "They forced my hand! Help me, please," he begged her. He suddenly leapt off the bed and grabbed her medical coat, dropping to his knees at her feet.

"Help me!" he begged her. "I can't make them go away! They'll kill you too!"

Abby tried to pull away. "Mr. Allan," she began, trying to stay clam. "Someone is coming to help you, I promise. I called them; they'll be right here-"

"No!' he cried. "No, they'll be too late! They won't get here in time! You'll be dead by then! I can end it for you, if you want! It'll all be over-"

The door suddenly burst open as Allan raised the knife and a tall man came rushing in. He pulled the man off of Abby, subduing him on the bed. He pulled out a needle and injected Allan with it, effectively calming the man down. Abby watched it all as though it were happening in slow motion. She sank to the floor, head in her hands.

She suddenly heard footsteps coming towards her. "Are you all right, Dr. Lockhart?" the man asked.

Abby looked up slowly. What she saw made her voice die in her throat.

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Dr. Carter raced through the halls of the psychiatric ward, looking through all the windows. He reached the end, glanced through the window, and then slowly opened the door.

"Abby?"

She was turned away from him, holding her head in her hands. She looked up when Carter said her name.

"Hi," she whispered.

"What happened?" Carter asked urgently, walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her like a protective shield. "Neela said the patient pulled a knife on you?" Abby nodded slowly.

Carter squeezed her tighter. "Oh god, Abby; I'm so sorry…"

Abby didn't say anything. In truth, Allan pulling a knife on her hadn't terrified her as much as it might have. It was what had happened afterward that really mattered.

"There's something else," she whispered.

Carter looked at her, concern mounting. "Did he hurt you?"

Abby shook her head. "It's about the guy who pulled him off of me…"

"What about him?" Carter frowned.

Abby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It was Elliot."

Carter didn't know what to say. He stared at his wife uncertainly, a mix of concern and pity playing onto his face. Before he could say anything, however, there was a soft knock and then the door opened. Wendall entered, smiling at Abby. Her smile changed to a frown when she looked at Carter.

"Everything all right, Dr. Carter?" she asked uncertainly.

Carter was still staring at Abby as though he didn't quite know what to say. "Uh…yeah, yeah, I'll just leave now…"

Abby grabbed his arm as he tried to leave. "Please stay," she whispered to him.

Carter looked at Wendall. "Is that…allowed?"

Wendall shrugged. "Have a seat, Carter." Carter sat down in a chair next to Abby. Wendall turned away from him and turned to Abby. "You are not having a fun day, are you?" Abby shrugged.

Wendall looked at her clipboard. "Neela said she found you crying in the exam room after a patient pulled a knife on you…Tell me what happened."

"Um…Weaver handed me a chart, I saw the patient. He told me that he needed help and I told him I would help him. He pulled out a bloody knife and told me not to be afraid." Abby let out a sob; Carter grabbed her hand, ignoring Wendall's frown. "Uh…I called psychiatry; he was talking like crazy. He – he told me that 'they' had made him do it and…" Her voice trailed off.

"And…what?" Wendall urged her in a whisper.

"He told me that 'they' would kill me too and that he should end it now before they could get to me."

"How did that make you feel?"

Abby hesitated; maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have Carter hear this. She continued anyway, "I thought…I thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to die." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Wendall nodded slightly. "Are you suicidal?" She saw Carter flick his eyes at his wife.

"No," Abby answered slowly. "I would never hurt myself, but I don't think I would mind if someone killed me."

Wendall was going to ask her why, but thought better of it. It was obvious why. "But…the patient didn't kill you. Did you fight back at all? Try to calm him?" Abby didn't answer. "You're still here, though, Abby," Wendall pointed out. "If you really wanted to die, you would have just let him stab you. Wouldn't that have ended everything? It would have all been over; you could be dead now. Why didn't you end it? Why didn't you let him kill you?"

Abby hesitated as she considered the question. Wendall was right; something had stopped her from letting Allan kill her. She swallowed.

"I-I guess," she mumbled, "I didn't want…"

"Didn't want what?" Wendall urged her.

Abby turned and looked at Carter. "I didn't want to lost the baby – or you." Carter's eyes slowly filled with tears.

Wendall looked between the couple, watching as Abby began to cry too. She saw Carter tighten his grip on her hand again, even starting to stroke her hand comfortingly.

"So you fought for your husband and your unborn child…that means you also fought for yourself." Wendall paused, watching Abby's reaction. "You don't want to die, do you, Abby?"

"I don't now," she said softly.

"Now?" Wendall repeated. "What do you mean 'now'? What changed?"

Abby sighed. Wendall looked from her to Carter, whom she noticed had tensed. She frowned slightly as Abby began to speak.

"I couldn't escape from Allan myself," she began slowly. Her tone was cautious, but deliberate. "He was too strong. Suddenly, the door opened and El – a man cam in. He pulled Allan from me and subdued him on the bed. He – he came over to me and asked if I was all right." Abby let out another shuddering breath, stealing a quick glance at Carter. "I had my head in my hands," she whispered. "When he came over, I looked up. It was Elliot."

Wendall's eyes widened and she scribbled a bit on the paper. "Are you sure?"

Abby narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe me?"

Wendall didn't answer but asked another question of her own. "Is it possible you just saw a man who _resembled_ Eliot?"

Abby shook her head. "It was Elliot; I know it was. He changed the color of his eyes and has some more hair, but it's him; I _know_ it is."

Wendall looked at Abby, nodding slightly, although it could not have been plainer that the psychiatrist was unconvinced. She turned instead to Carter. "Dr. Carter, a word, please?"

Carter looked up at her, a bit surprised, but didn't protest as Wendall beckoned him from the room, leaving Abby alone inside.

Wendall waited for the door to shut completely before speaking. "I haven't really had a chance to talk to you lately, John," she began in a low voice. "How have things been at home?"

Carter shrugged. "All right, considering…"

"You look tired." It was not a question.

"Didn't sleep much last night," he said. "Abby was having nightmares."

"Did you wake her?"

Carter shook his head. "I wanted to, though."

"So you could sleep?"

"No!" Carter answered quickly. "You don't know what it's like to see her like that. She's crying uncontrollably, but I can't see what she's crying about. She's in agony and I can't stop it. I can't help her."

"So what do you do?" Wendall asked.

"I hold her," Carter said softly. "Comfort her until the nightmares leave her." He paused, and when he began again, his voice was barely a whisper. "It's so hard for her right now. She can't take anymore loss, but she's had so many thrown at her. And now she's seeing Elliot…"

"You don't believe her?"

Carter hesitated before shaking his head no. "Do you?"

"No," Wendall said softly. "I think her mind is playing games on her. She sees one person who may resemble Elliot, but isn't."

Carter nodded slowly. "What do you think she should do?"

"I think," Wendall began slowly, "she needs to go back to New York. She needs to see the graves and make peace with their deaths. She needs to accept it before she can heal."

Carter hesitated and then nodded. "I'll buy us tickets tonight."

To his surprise, Wendall shook her head. "No, John," she said. "Abby - Abby needs to go alone."

Carter was taken aback. "Alone?" he repeated.

Wendall nodded. "She needs to go by herself; she needs to face this on her own-"

"On her own?" Carter spat, infuriated. "She can't do it on her own! She's not strong enough to face this! I need to be there for her; she needs me-"

"No," Wendall shook her head. "No, Carter; she doesn't. You can comfort her and hold her as though you can make her pain go away, but you can't. She may not seem strong enough to make it, but she's stronger than she looks. You can't fight for her, John. She has to battle these demons on her own."

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Carter and Abby arrived at the airport later that evening. They had left the hospital after Wendall had explained everything to Abby and went home to pack. The airport was bustling with late afternoon traffic when they arrived five hours later.

They made it through check-in and security without incident. After checking the departure gate, they walked to it slowly, but in silence.

Carter spoke once they reached the waiting chairs. "Casey will meet you at the gate," he told her softly. "She called to say she has a room ready for you in her-"

"Carter," Abby cut him off, "I know. You've already told me this. Twice." Abby could feel her anger flaring. "You don't have to baby me."

"Abby," Carter protested. "I'm not-"

"You are!" Abby exclaimed. "If you don't believe me, John, the least you could do is to stop treating me like a patient!"

"You're not my patient, Abby; you're my wife and I love you! I'm worried about you!" Carter told her. He saw some of the anger drain from her face. He softened his tone. "I'm just worried about you; that's all."

Abby smiled sadly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Carter smiled back at her sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, too."

The attendant's voice suddenly came over the intercom, announcing that the flight was now boarding. Abby and Carter stood up together.

Carter wrapped Abby in a tight hug. "Stay safe," he murmured into her ear.

"I'll try," she whispered back.

They broke apart with one final squeeze. Abby picked up her bag and turned away from Carter with an attempt at a reassuring smile. Carter watched her walk away sadly.

"Goodbye, Abby," he whispered.

Suddenly, she turned around and ran back to Carter, pulling him into a deep kiss. He was slightly surprised, but not unpleased at all. She pulled away breathlessly.

"I forgot to tell you something," she whispered. She leaned into his ear. "I love you, John."

Carter cupped her face in his hand and kissed her softly. "I love you, too." He gently rubbed her cheek with his finger. She smiled slightly at him. He kissed her cheek, brushing his lips against her pale skin. He watched her retreat back to the line of people boarding the place.

Had Carter known he might never see his wife again, perhaps he would have hugged her a little bit tighter and kissed her a little bit longer.

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**A/N:** Not a cliffhanger. :) LOL Anyway, the next chapter may take some time to get up...it may be up sometime in a few weeks. It will involve some interesting twists, the discovery of a lost friend, tragedy, and a cliffhanger. Sound like fun:P Until later, everyone. REVIEW!


	8. No One Knows Who I Am

**A/N: **I still don't own anything. Not even my lovely Dick Wolf Halloween costume got me anything.

**A/N: **Hey, we reached 100 combined reviews - and I had 17 for last chapter! Wow, thanks everyone; you all rock! Thanks to onetreefan, WuHaoNi, SVU 101, Sweet-4-Stabler, obsessedwithstabler, lijep, CarbyLivesOn, AliasCSINYFriendsER, KaydenceRei, Hkitty9013, Abbey06, Drop Dead Saxy (twice LOL), Homogentistic Acid, lawandordergal, Kate Taylor, and Soaringmunkymuffins!

Yes, this chapter is sad. Yes, this chapter ends in a cliffhanger. No, last chapter did not end in a cliffhanger. :P Just had to make that point. Anyway...enjoy and review!

**For KaydenceRei...You wouldn't believe it, but my computer finally got its act together and managed to find the spell/grammar file. LOL thanks for offering to help though. This chapter is for you:)**

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Agent Miller locked the door of her car with a gentle click on the controller. She stepped back from the unpaved road on which she had been driving, stepping onto the grass. Red and blue lights circled ahead in the direction in which she was now jogging. She stopped next to the crouched medical examiner.

"What happened?"

The medical examiner looked up. "Doesn't look like much; just a hit and run. This one's been dead for awhile though; I'd say at least a week." He used his gloved hand to life the sheet to show the agent the victim's feet.

"The shoes are worn here," the medical examiner said. "It looks like whoever this guys was came from a long ways away."

"How was he found?" miller asked.

The medical examiner indicated a group of people over to his left. "Two hikers found him lying on the side of the road."

Miller frowned. "People must not come here often them." She sighed. "But why was the F.B.I. called down? What does this have to do with us?"

The medical examiner nodded slightly and bent down against. "There has been some decomposition to the face, but I think you could still make a clear enough ID."

"Clear enough for what?" Agent Miller wondered aloud.

"This," the examiner answered. In one swift motion, he pulled back the sheet. "Is this the guy?"

Miller clasped her hands to her mouth. She had gasped, not in disgust, but in horrific realization.

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Elliot sighed as he walked down to the ER for the third time that day. His work consisted of tending to patients upstairs and rushing down to the ER for consults. It was rather dull and repetitive, very much unlike the high-paced action of chasing perps in SVU. His most interesting moment of his new job had been saving Abby from the crazy old man with the knife. The old man was now in a psychiatric unit, although he hadn't said anything yet. Elliot was worried about Abby; he hadn't seen her since the incident.

It unnerved him that he hadn't seen her again. He had been called down to the ER, and although the fist floor was always full of people, he had still been unable to find her. The last time he had seen her, she was being led away by an Indian doctor with a British accent. Elliot had seen the British-Indian woman – he believed her name was Neela – several times since then, but still no Abby.

He reached the first floor and made his way to the exam room. He was walking towards the end of the hall when he caught sight of Neela again.

"Excuse me!" he called out to her. She looked up from her chart to him. She smiled in recognition.

"I believe Dr. Lewis needs you in the exam room," she began, but Elliot cut her off.

"I was actually wondering if you had seen Dr. Lockhart," he said. "Do you know where I might find her?"

Neela shook her head. "I haven't seen her all day, actually." She paused uncertainly. "Maybe her shift doesn't start until later…Why?"

"Oh," Elliot said, caught off guard. He hadn't expected this question and he couldn't' think of an answer either. "It's just – uh-"

Neela gave a short laugh. "You want to ask her out, huh? Well, that's Abby for you, always very popular. She's married though, you know."

Elliot almost laughed out loud. "No!" he answered quickly. "No, I just wanted to – to make sure she was all right after yesterday…"

"Oh," was all Neela said, but Elliot could tell she wasn't really convinced. She gave him a knowing smile. "Right. Well, maybe you should try asking Dr. Carter – that's her husband. I know he's on right now; I just saw him."

"Okay, thanks," Elliot said. He paused. "Well, thanks for you help." He smiled at her and then walked off to the exam room, pondering what Neela had told him. He wondered where Abby was, but wasn't sure talking to Carter was a good idea – he couldn't risk being recognized again. The problem kept his mind preoccupied even as he worked on his consult, and by the time he had finished with the patient, Elliot had made up his mind. Exiting the exam room slowly, he scanned the busy hallway carefully. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

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Dr. Carter walked briskly through the ER hallway, sipping his third cup of coffee that morning. After Abby had left, Cater passed a long night plagued by insomnia. It had been his second sleepless night in a row.

He was walking back to the admit desk to drop off some charts when he heard a voice from behind. "Excuse me? Dr. Carter?"

"Yeah?" Carter replied without looking behind him in the direction of the voice.

"I was wondering where I might find Dr. Lockhart?"

Carter frowned. "She's out of town," he answered shortly. He continued to walk away, not really interested in answering any more of the questions.

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

Carter was starting to get seriously annoyed now. His temper was already on the edge. He whirled around to face the inquisitive man. "Why do you want-" Carter suddenly froze. He shook his head slightly, convinced it must be a trick of the light, or that his lack of sleep had finally caught up to him.

The man smiled grimly and nodded in response to Carter's bewildered and questioning stare. Carter shook his head again, but it was hopeless. He didn't know what to say, but apparently the man did.

"Can we take a walk, Dr. Carter?" he asked.

Carter forced himself to say something. "Uh – yeah, yeah; let's go." He led the man from the ER.

They walked in silence for awhile, neither quite knowing what to say to the other. It was when they reached their third block that Carter managed to speak.

"How?"

"Witness protection," Elliot answered in a low voice. "The feds said it was no longer safe for me to be alive, and that I was better off dead, so…" his voice trailed off.

Carter nodded slowly, trying to take it all in. "How did you get to Chicago?"

Elliot shrugged. "The feds didn't know I had friends in Chicago…they just sent me here…"

"What about Liv?" Carter asked, almost fearful for the answer.

Elliot shook his head hopelessly. "She's dead." His voice was barely above a whisper. Carter put a hand on his shoulder.

"How do you know?"

Elliot didn't answer right away, but continued walking in silence. "I watched her die," he said finally.

"I'm sorry," Carter said softly. He felt oddly empty. He had just found out one of his friends was still alive, but somehow he felt as though he had lost Olivia all over again at the thought she may still be alive.

"Where's Abby?" Elliot asked again, eager to change the subject.

Carter froze. "Oh god," he whispered. "Oh, my god."

"What?" Elliot questioned nervously.

Carter rubbed his forehead, feeling all the lines of worry beneath his fingers. "I sent her to New York."

Elliot frowned. "What do you mean?"

Carter sighed as he sat down on the bench. Elliot sat down next to him. "After Abby was attacked, she was sent up to psychiatry. She told me she had seen you, and I…" Carter shook his head sadly.

"You didn't believe her," Elliot finished for him.

Carter nodded. "Dr. Wendall didn't either. Wendall thought Abby needed to go to New York to…see your graves…to accept your death. I wanted to go with her, but Wendall insisted I stay here."

"When did she leave?"

"Last night," Carter answered dully. "She's staying with Casey."

Elliot nodded slowly. "And you?" he asked. "How are you doing?"

Carter shrugged. "I've been better."

Elliot sighed. "Yeah, me too."

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_A pale red light cast a weak shadow onto the concrete. A woman stood in the shadow talking on a cell phone. Her caramel colored hair was fluttering slightly around her face in the wind. She laughed, apparently entertained at something the person on the other end of the line had said. The red light went out and then flickered a bit. The sound of car wheels squealing as they turned a corner could be heard. A loud crack resounded and the woman fell. The image began to blur. She lay on the ground for awhile until a man came over to help her. She saw his face drain slowly in color as he dropped to his knees beside the woman. He was dressed well, in a suit, as though he were coming out of a fancy restaurant, or having just attended an important dinner, or both. The image was fading in and out now, but the man was muttering things to the woman. He pressed his hands against her blood-stained abdomen, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The man was nearly shouting in desperation at the woman, who now seemed to be unable to hear him…The image blurred to an almost unrecognizable state. Somehow, the man ended up on the concrete, clutching his leg… _

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Abby awoke slowly to the sound of Casey making coffee in the kitchen. She rolled over onto her side, shivering slightly in the cold apartment. She grabbed the sweatshirt she had tossed on the floor in the middle of the night and pulled it over her head. Without bothering to do anything else, she wandered into the kitchen.

Casey was standing by the counter, already dressed for work and hurriedly scanning a file. She looked up when she heard Abby enter the room. "Morning," she said.

"Morning " Abby mumbled. She leaned against the side of the wall, not really sure what to say to the ADA.

"Did you sleep all right?" Casey asked.

Abby shrugged. "The bed was comfortable."

Casey frowned slightly, a bit confused by Abby's response. "But you had nightmares?"

"Don't worry about it, really," Abby told her. "I've had them almost ever night since…" She broke off awkwardly. Casey understood.

"Have you talked to anyone?"

Abby nodded. "I don't know how much it's helping, though."

Casey looked at her sympathetically. "It's so hard in the beginning," she whispered.

"I know," Abby sighed. "It's just – it never seems to get any better."

"It will," Casey murmured. "You just have to give it some time." She drained the rest of her coffee and looked at the clock. "I have to go," she said, gathering her things and stuffing them into her briefcase. "I'm expected in court at nine. Please feel free to eat whatever you can find in the kitchen, or do whatever you like. My cell phone number is on the counter if you need anything."

"Thanks Casey," Abby said, smiling slightly. "I really appreciate it."

Casey smiled back at Abby. "Don't mention it," she said. She grabbed her briefcase and opened the front door. She suddenly paused. "Abby…" she said, turning around again. Abby looked up at her. "I miss them too." Casey offered her companion one last sad smile before exiting the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Abby sighed and grabbed a mug for some coffee. She sipped it slowly, wondering what she should do with herself today. She knew she didn't have much time in New York, and in that time she would have to visit the graves, or find some way of accepting their deaths…

_That would be impossible,_ she realized. Abby was certain it had been Elliot who had pulled Allan off of her in the ER yesterday. She couldn't shake that feeling from her conscious. _How can I accept something I know is false? _

_But maybe I'm wrong…_A worried voice suddenly broke into her mind. _What if Wendall is right and it's only someone who _looks_ like Elliot? _Abby buried her face in her hands. This was just too damn complicated.

Abby couldn't take it any longer. She had to find out if it would help. As much as she didn't want it to be true, she had to know what would happen if she saw their graves. Resigned to this fate, she dressed quickly, and left the apartment building, carefully locking Casey's door as she left.

It wasn't until she had walked two blocks that Abby realized she had no idea where the cemetery was from Casey's apartment. She didn't even know how far it was, just realizing she would need a car. She sighed, and began looking for a bus map. She figured she could get on a bus and ride around to look for a rental shop.

Luckily for her, she wasn't too far away. Abby only had to ride the bus for about ten minutes before she spotted a shop. She ended up with a dark blue Honda that had to have been made before she was even conceived. She sighed; it could be worse. She checked a map and then headed off.

Abby arrived at the graveyard just as it began to rain. She didn't have an umbrella on her, nor did her jacket have a hood. She cursed under her breath, and turned off the engine, stepping out into the pouring rain.

The ground squished beneath her with each step. She kept her eyes trained on the gravestones, anticipation building; she knew she was getting close. She shivered, unsure if it was because she was scared, or cold, or both. Her breath caught in her throat as she approached the graves.

It looked almost exactly as it had the day of the funeral, except that thick droplets of rain were dripping from the edges. The stone still looked as raw as ever, as though even it knew the names it bore should not be there. There were still plenty of flowers littering the ground. Abby dropped to her knees in front of the grave, even though the ground was muddy and wet. She stared at the two names for a long time, wondering if she should say a prayer or something. She decided against it; she wasn't really a religious person, and she didn't really know any good prayers anyway.

Abby sighed heavily, feeling the rain beat down harder on her back, like the whole world was crying with her. She reached out a trembling hand and slowly traced the freshly cut letters that spelled out Olivia's name on the grave, feeling the grooves each one made beneath her finger. Her face was wet and Abby knew it wasn't just from the rain. She finished the last 'n' in 'Benson' and then slowly, almost reluctantly, began to move her finger towards the 'E' that began Elliot's name.

She lingered, her finger hovering just above the marking on the stone. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't convince herself he was really gone. _That's how you ended up here,_ the pesky voice in her head reminded her. Abby swallowed hard and tried to push the voice from her mind. _Just do it… _

She brought her finger down to the stone again, and felt a fresh wave of tears start as she slowly began tracing the letters of Elliot's name. It was as though she were losing him all over again. It was bad enough to have lost him once, but now to be forced to accept she really hadn't seen him yesterday in the ER, and that she never would see him again, was almost more than she could bear. She sobbed uncontrollably, collapsing against the gravestone as she finished the last letter in 'Stabler.' She closed her eyes, feeling the rain beat down on her harder, mixing in with her own tears.

How long she lay there, Abby didn't know. The next thing she felt was her cell phone vibrating against her ribs. She pulled herself into a sitting position; the rain had slowed down considerably. She extracted it from her pocket and opened it carefully.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Abby…it's John."

"Hi," Abby said softly. She leaned her head against the gravestone.

"Abby, are you all right?" Carter's voice was full of concern.

Abby sighed. "I'm at the cemetery," she pointed out bitterly.

"Oh," Carter responded. Abby could tell her was hesitating, as though he knew something he didn't want to tell her. Carter finally began speaking again. "I'm just calling because…" She heard him sigh heavily. "I'm so sorry, Abby."

"Why?" she asked.

There was a long pause. "Elliot is alive," Carter answered finally.

"What?"

"I'm so sorry," Carter repeated. "I – Abby, you can't imagine how horrible I feel now…"

"What happened?" Carter's tone was beginning to scare her.

"I saw him," she heard Carter say in an almost awed tone. "He just came down to the ER and asked me where you were…I turned around and it was him. You were right, Abby. Please, forgive me…"

"I do," Abby whispered. She was too stunned to say anything else. She had just forced herself to believe a lie, and now she didn't have to pretend. Elliot really was alive.

"Can you come home now?" Carter was asking.

Abby smiled. "Did you ask Wendall?"

"Yes," Carter answered. "She sends her apologizes and would like to see you as soon as you get back."

"I need a ticket," Abby told him.

"Already taken care of," Carter told her. "You fly out at three; that's in a couple of hours."

Abby nodded. "I'll leave now and get my stuff from Casey's apartment. I just…I can't believe this, John."

"I know," he said softly. "We'll talk about it when you get back, okay?"

"Sure," Abby said. She stood up and shook the dirt from her knees. She began walking to the car. "So…I will see you later?"

"I count on it," Carter told her. "I love you."

Abby smiled. "I love you too."

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Abby threw the last of her clothes into her suitcase and clasped it shut tightly. She wrote a note to Casey explaining what had happened and thanked her for her hospitality. She didn't tell Casey about Elliot, but just told her that Carter needed her back in Chicago. She locked Casey's door for the last time and slipped the key under the doormat just like she said she would in the note.

She couldn't believe she was going home already. But even more surreal than that was that she had been right: Elliot was alive. She hadn't had the chance to ask Carter exactly how or why Elliot could still be alive, but she knew he would explain it to her when she was back in Chicago. She drove the rental car onto her highway, entering the mess of cars. The rain had started up again, and her windshield wipers worked furiously to keep the front window clear.

It was just after she had exited the highway that it happened. The exit had taken her to a busy intersection where four groups of cars waited for their turn to move again. A large truck across from her ran the stoplight, purposely judging by the speed at which it came at her. But Abby couldn't think about the speed of the car, or even why it had ran the stoplight. The rain was coming down harder than ever; it was difficult to see. But the next thing she knew, the truck was right in front of her. She barely had time to scream before it smashed into her head on, rendering her unconscious. She slumped forward in her seat, unable to hear the cries of onlookers as they leapt from their cars, whipping out their cell phones to make desperate phone calls. Her limp fingers slipped from the wheel as the car burst into flame.

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**A/N:** Whee! Cliffy! LOL I know you all hate me right now. But please review and I will make it better soon, I promise. Next chapter: more memory break throughs, a startling and unnerving discovery, and this cliffhanger is resolved. Not necessarily in that order. 


	9. Oblivion

**A/N:** No, I don't own them. It was my birthday yesterday and Dick Wolf forgot to give me my birthday present. So did Michael Crichton. Damn it. 

**A/N:** Yes, I'm doing it and I can't actually believe I'm doing it. I'm updating EARLY! This is a rare event, I repeat, A RARE EVENT. I had an unplanned eight hour bus ride to Chicago for debate and now I finally have a laptop so I was able to work on this chapter for you all. Consequently, it's also the longest chapter I've written so far. But before you get to read this wonderfully long chapter and resolve that awful cliffhanger from last time, I have to thank my lovely reviewers! Thanks to estrelita lovesSVU, onetreefan, Sweet-4-Stabler, obsessedwithstabler, SVU 101, WuHaoNi, OElvrs4life, lijep, XxcabyxX, Hkitty 9013, KaydenceRei, Kate Taylor, Drop Dead Saxy, AliasCSINYFriendsER, CarbyLivesOn, Soaringmunkymuffins, and JJ. You are all amazing!

**This chapter is dedicated to anyone who was outraged with the cliffhanger I left at the end of the last chapter. LOL!**

Officer Wilson drummed his fingers impatiently on the dashboard. He yawned widely, regretting his decision not to drink another cup of coffee earlier that day; he was in desperate need of a nap - or, even better, actually falling asleep for once. He seemed to be having the worst luck coming home: he had caught all of the traffic lights.

He watched as the cars on the other side made their turns in the left turn lane. The light must be changing to yellow now, he figured, for the cars had begun slowing down. But not all the cars - a large truck seemed determined to make that turn before the light changed. Wilson frowned deeply; the truck was making no effort to slow down, and it didn't have its - Wilson gasped, just as he realized what was going to happen.

The truck smashed head on into the car two lanes down from Wilson. Wilson was too shocked even to figure out exactly which traffic laws the truck had violated: now there were more pressing matters at hand. People from the other cars around him begin jumping out and running towards the scene of the collision. Officer Wilson grabbed his walkie-talkie and leapt out from the car, running towards the crowd of people. He barked orders into the walkie-talkie, detailing the accident, the location, and that medical assistance would definitely be needed.

He approached the crowd, displaying his badge. People immediately parted to let him through. It was a real mess. The truck had shattered the windshield of the car and the driver's lifeless body was hanging over the edge of his seat. Wilson thought about helping him, but then decided the guy could wait, since he had deliberately caused the accident. Instead, he turned to the destroyed blue car.

He couldn't exactly see inside, but he could tell there must be someone in there: the window was sprayed with blood. The car was smoking dangerously and Wilson knew it could burst into flames any minute. Without waiting another second, he yanked open the door.

A brown-haired woman was inside, and she wasn't moving either. Wilson didn't wait to find a pulse; all he knew was that he had to get her out of the car as quickly as possible. He could hear sirens in the distance. Struggling to avoid being cut by the shattered glass that covered the woman's body, he reached over her to unbuckle her seat belt. He then dragged her lifeless body from the car, feeling tiny pieces of glass cut into his skin as he held her. He gritted his teeth and tried to move her carefully, as he didn't know the extent of her injuries. He managed to get her out of the car and had only moved her a few feet before the car burst into flames.

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"He's WHAT?"

"Dead, sir," Agent Miller repeated.

Agent Eric Thompson scratched his head. "How is this possible?" he asked hoarsely.

"I don't know, sir," Miller said softly.

"This can't be!" Thompson exclaimed angrily. "Are you positive of the identification?"

Miller nodded. "I saw him myself and DNA tests later confirmed it."

Thompson exhaled. "He's been dead a week, you say?"

"Yes, that was what the medical examiner said."

"Could he possibly be mistaken? Is it possible that the decomposition was accelerated b y the location or anything?" Thompson asked desperately.

Miller shook her head. "There was nothing accelerating decomposition. The medical examiner was certain, and I even had three others confirm it. All place the time of death at a week ago, at least."

"This is a mistake!" Thompson exclaimed, still refusing to believe it. "Richard White cannot be dead!"

Miller only looked at him helplessly. "I thought you would be happy about it; doesn't it mean that you can get those people out of the program?"

Thompson stared at her. "No. We entered them into the program five days ago," he said weakly.

"What does that mean, sir?"

"It means, Agent Miller, that Richard White didn't do it. We're looking for another player."

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"Good morning, Rose."

Rose looked up at the sound of the door opening. She smiled when she saw Dr. Wright. "Good morning," she responded.

"How are you doing today?" he asked as he sat down in the chair next to her bed.

Rose shifted herself into a sitting position. "I'm fine; how are you?"

"Just fine, thank you," Wright answered, smiling. "Did you have another dream last night?"

Rose nodded . "It was much like the other one I told you about except that it was in more detail. The woman is laughing on the phone now and when the man comes, his face is clearer."

Wright scribbled the details down on his paper. "Did anything else change about the dream? Was it longer perhaps?"

Rose nodded, her eyes widening. "It was kind of hard to make out, but it looked like the man got shot as well."

Wright frowned thoughtfully. "That's very interesting. What happened after that?"

"Nothing," Rose said softly. "He got shot and then the dream ended." She paused, watching Wright scribble down some more notes before asking, "Does this mean anything? Am I getting my memory back?"

Wright sighed. "It's hard to tell," he admitted. "It seems logical that your memory would come back in your dreams because that is when your mind is the most relaxed and the subconscious most vulnerable. But…Unfortunately, Rose, there is nothing in your history to suggest that anything like this happened to you. Perhaps it is an interesting take on a different event that happened to you. Sometime, our mind warps events, making true events into a different situation, an exaggerated situation that represents much of the same feelings, but isn't the actual situation."

Rose frowned sadly. "So my memory isn't actually coming back at all?"

Wright shook his head. "No, your memory has come back some," he corrected her. "We keep making small breakthroughs all the time."

"But those don't mean anything to me!" Rose exclaimed. "I don't know why I see fire, but hear shouting. I don't know why the other day I felt pressure on my abdomen. I don't know why I dream about a man and woman being shot in the night. I don't know anything and you tell me nothing!"

Wright sighed. "I know it is difficult for you to understand. I understand that you are frustrated. But things like memory come back slowly. These bits and pieces are all part of a larger story that I'm trying to piece together for you. I don't know what they mean yet, but they are all part of it. I promised you that you would get your memory back and I'm not going to break my promise unless you want me to give up. "

Rose let out a long breath slowly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. A tear slowly slid down her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Wright smiled. "It's understandable," he said kindly.

Rose smiled uncertainly. "So…What now?"

"I had an idea that might help you…Do you want to try it?"

Rose nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, please!" she said eagerly.

Wright smiled. "Good. Lie back." Rose obeyed and, sensing it was coming, closed her eyes. Wright chuckled. "I want you to respond with the first word that comes to mind. Don't think about it: just respond. Do you understand?"

Rose nodded. "Yes."

"Are you ready?" At Rose's nod, Wright began. "Food?"

"Spaghetti," Rose said immediately.

"Smell?"

"Wood." She frowned, surprised by her answer.

"Don't worry," Wright assured her. "You're doing just fine, Rose. Letter?"

"E."

"Place?"

"Chicago."

"Chicago?" Wright repeated, surprised. "Open your eyes, Rose." She did so, blinking uncertainly up at him. "Let's talk about Chicago." Rose nodded as she pulled herself into a sitting position again. "Why did you think of Chicago?"

"I…don't know," she said. She had just said the first place that came to mind, and not even she knew why that place had been Chicago.

"Do you remember ever going to Chicago?"

"I don't know if I've ever been there," Rose said slowly. "I mean, I don't remember ever going there, but that doesn't count for much, does it? I think I must have gone there…I feel as though I've been there before."

"Okay," said Wright, "So you think you've been to Chicago…Do you have any idea why you might have gone there?"

Rose frowned thoughtfully. "Hearing Chicago makes me think of a friendly place, like I have friends there. Maybe I went to see friends?"

Wright nodded slowly. "Very likely. We will have to look into this more later."

"Why not right now?" Rose asked.

"I was thinking we could see if we could get anymore information from the word game again," said Wright.

Rose nodded. "Okay."

Wright smiled at her. "Close your eyes," he said as she lay back. "Ready?" She nodded. "Animal?"

"Dog."

"Holiday?"

"Halloween."

"Job?"

"Doctor."

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"Charge the paddles again, damn it!"

The machine clicked and charged. "Clear!" The woman jumped up from the table, but there was no change.

"How long has it been?" one of the nurses asked in a whisper.

Another nurse looked at the clock. "It's been almost half an hour."

The other nurse sighed. "Maggie…" she said softly. "Maggie, it's been so long…"

No!" the doctor said firmly. "Charge the paddles again," she demanded. The nurse reluctantly pressed the button. And the doctor pressed the paddles down again. "Come on!"

The heart monitor suddenly stopped shrieking, replaced by the steady rhythm of a heart beat. Both nurses and the doctor looked at the monitor.

"Now that's what I call a miracle," one of the nurses remarked. The heart monitor showed that the rhythm continued to rise. The doctor let out a deep breath.

"Let me know when she wakes up."

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Agent Thompson sighed in frustration for the umpteenth time that day after having been told Richard White was actually dead. He had seen the body himself just to convince himself, and it had indeed been Richard White who lay in the morgue, killed over a week ago in a hit and run. Thompson didn't mind that the son of a bitch was dead, but what terrified him was that he had suspected the wrong man.

Who can the other player be? he wondered. He had so far been unsuccessful in locating any other enemies of the two detectives. He had read extensively into what had been his best (admittedly, only) lead, but that had also fallen through: the man involved was reportedly dead, having died when a bomb exploded in his house, which the detectives and two doctors from Chicago had barely escaped.

His fax machine began stirring as a fax came in for him. Thompson frowned, but before he could go over and read it, his desk phone rang, startling him from his thoughts. "Thompson," he said into the receiver.

"It's Agent Miller, sir."

He sighed heavily. "Do you have anything else?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "You might find this interesting. I know you requested information about the case involving Detectives Stabler and Benson and the two doctors."

"Yes?" Thompson pressed her impatiently.

Miller sighed. "There was a terrible car accident earlier this afternoon. According to Officer Wilson, the truck drove straight into a car across the road, slamming into it head on. The driver is dead, and the victim is in critical condition. The victim is one of your doctors."

Thompson led out a frustrated sigh. "Which one?"

"Dr. Abigail Lockhart."

"What is Dr. Lockhart doing here?" Thompson wondered out loud.

"I don't know, sir," Miller responded. "But from what Officer Wilson said, this was no accident. The driver of the other car intentionally ran into her in an attempt to murder her."

"But why would anyone be that stupid?" Thompson insisted. "The idiot tried to kill her in broad daylight in front of several witnesses."

"Maybe they were both supposed to die," Miller suggested. "That way, it wouldn't matter whether or not there were witnesses."

"That makes sense," Thompson agreed. "What doesn't make sense is that the only person who wants both Dr. Lockhart and Detectives Benson and Stabler dead is dead himself…Of course," he went on thoughtfully. "Is there a possibility that this is just a nasty coincidence?"

Miller sighed. "No, it can't be."

"Why not?" Thompson asked.

"We found the attempted murderer's driver's license in the car," Miller said. "His name…his name was Derek Bloomberg."

"Bloomberg has a brother?" Thompson exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes, but he's dead now,' Miller pointed out. She hesitated, and then went on slowly. "We searched his apartment after the attempted murder. You'll never guess what we found…"

"What?" Thompson asked impatiently.

"He was ordered to make the hit," Miller told him. "We found a note in his apartment."

"Who wrote the note?"

"I know this will sound crazy," Miller warned him. "But it was signed 'Michael Bloomberg.'"

"What?"

"I know," said Miller, sighing. "I called the fire department that responded to the bombing just to make sure Bloomberg was actually dead…They should have faxed you their response."

Thompson dove for the fax machine. He quickly read the fax and paled immediately.

"What does it say?" Agent Miller asked.

Thompson cleared his throat and read aloud, "Although it is clear that no one could survive the bomb if they had been inside the building, nothing in our findings indicated the Mr. Bloomberg was inside the building at the time of the bomb. Because we cannot confirm that Mr. Bloomberg was inside of the building at the time of the bombing, we can not confirm that he died in the bombing…" Thompson's voice trailed off.

"Then he's back?" Miller asked fearfully.

Thompson nodded slowly. "Yes. Michael Bloomberg is alive and he is back for revenge."

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Abby woke up slowly, as though she were drifting into the cove after a turbulent battle with the sea. Her mind flickered from clear to foggy, from questions to answers. She groaned as she began to regain consciousness.

"Ms. Lockhart?"

A high-pitched voice, unfamiliar to Abby knew her name. Abby struggled to open her eyes, becoming aware as she did so of the pain that was consuming her.

"Where am I?"

The nurse smiled. "You are at the hospital."

Hospital…The word seemed to register in Abby's brain. "Hospital?" she repeated.

The nurse nodded. "You were in a major car accident, Ms. Lockhart; you're very lucky to be alive."

WHAT?

And then she remembered. The traffic light…the truck…the sound of metal slamming into metal…

"When?" she asked weakly.

"Earlier this afternoon," the nurse answered as she checked Abby's vitals. "You were very lucky. There was an officer on scene who pulled you from the car before it burst into flames." The nurse wrote down the vitals on the chart. "You suffered from a concussion and a bad fracture to your arm. We managed to set it while you were still out."

Abby nodded absently, trying to take it all in. "Do I have to stay here?"

"We're keeping you here overnight so we can monitor you after the concussion, but if everything looks okay, then you can be released tomorrow," the nurse told her. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Husband…It was all coming back to her now. The reason she had been at the intersection: she was supposed to go back to Chicago…Carter wouldn't know where she was, Carter would be very worried…

"I - Can I call my husband, please?"

The nurse nodded. "Sure, I can call him for you-"

"No," Abby said. "I want to talk to him myself."

"Okay," said the nurse slowly. "There are pay phones down at the end of the hall to your right; I can take you down there if you want."

Abby sighed. She hated wheelchairs. However, she nodded and allowed the nurse to guide her into a wheelchair and push her down to the end of the hall.

"Do you think you can make it back yourself when you're done?"

Abby nodded. "Thanks." The nurse smiled and left her alone with the telephone. There was an older man on the phone now, and Abby sat around waiting for him to finish. After she had waited for over ten minutes and the man showed no signs of ending his conversation, Abby roller herself over to the elevator and up to the next floor.

The elevator doors opened on the next floor and Abby rolled herself down the hall. She checked the floor map: the phones were about halfway down the hall. The hallway was relatively empty; the few people she did meet didn't spare her anymore than a passing glance. She was almost to the phone area when something else caught her attention.

Abby rolled the chair back around to be sure she hadn't made a mistake. The woman inside was alone, lying on the bed, staring into space. Abby knew from the empty hallways that this was the psychiatric ward. She wondered what the woman was doing here…why Olivia was in the psychiatric ward when she was supposed to be dead…

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Rose stared aimlessly out the window into the darkening evening sky. She was lying on the bed, as always, and thinking. She liked to stare out the window into the horizon. It made her feel as though there was something more to her than just the endless monotony of her hospital room. As much as she wanted to regain her memory, she was becoming increasingly annoyed with the slow progress she had been making. Her outburst to Dr. Wright earlier that day had only managed to embarrass her. He was trying to help her and Rose knew she should be more grateful for it.

She was jerked abruptly from her thoughts at the sound of a knock on the door. Rose frowned. The nurse had passed her room only ten minutes ago. "Come in," she called.

The door opened slowly to reveal a woman in a wheelchair wearing a hospital gown. Her right arm was in a cast. She had long golden brown hair that was thrown messily around her shoulders and her brown eyes were wide and full of surprise. "Olivia?"

Rose frowned. "I'm sorry?"

The woman faltered. "You - you aren't Olivia?"

Rose's frown deepened. "I - wait…" She paused thoughtfully as something came back to her. A nurse had called her 'Olivia' once before too. "Who are you?" she asked.

The woman bit her lip. "You don't remember me?" Rose shook her head, excitement building. Could this woman possibly know something about her past?

"I'm Abby," the brown woman introduced herself.

"Abby…" Rose whispered, seeing if the name brought back any memories to her. It didn't.

Abby rolled her chair closer to the bed as Rose spoke up again. "Why did you call me Olivia?" she asked blatantly, hoping to finally get some answers to her questions.

"Oh…" Abby suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "It's rather a long story."

Rose shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere." She smiled, trying to coax Abby into telling her. She could see Abby was in need of some answers herself.

Abby sighed. "I have two friends in New York that I met when my brother and mother died. Both of them were detectives in the Special Victims Unit: Detective Elliot Stabler and his partner, Detective Olivia Benson."

"Were?" Rose questioned.

Abby nodded solemnly. "It happened very recently. They were shot and killed in an alleyway."

"An alley?" Now Rose was really interested. Her dream about the man and woman being shot was set in a place that resembled an alleyway. Could the man and woman be…?

Abby interrupted Rose's thoughts by continuing. "Yesterday, I met a man who looked very much like Elliot Stabler. He was working at the hospital where I work. When I told my husband and psychiatrist, they both insisted that I come back to New York in order to convince myself that Elliot was actually dead. I almost managed to do it, but then my husband called me and told me to come back home."

Rose frowned. "But you're still here…What happened?"

Abby sighed and winced, feeling pain shoot up her arm as though reminding her exactly why she was still here. "I was hit head on by a truck on the way to the airport earlier today. That's how I ended up in the hospital."

"Where were you going?"

"Home," Abby answered. "I live in Chicago."

Rose's eyes widened and she gasped in shock. "You live in Chicago?"

Abby nodded. "Yes…Why?"

Rose smiled. "I guess now is the time for me to explain my story." Abby nodded indulgently. Rose sighed and brushed back a lock of her hair. "I lost my memory. I've been working with Dr. Wright to regain it back. They told me that I was in a car accident and then a coma. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything.

"Dr. Wright told me my name is Rose, but…when I first woke up, one of the nurses called me 'Olivia.'"

Abby's eyes widened. "Isn't it possible that your name is actually Olivia?"

Rose shook her head. "Dr. Wright said the nurse had just made a mistake."

Abby frowned. "What if your name really is Olivia, though? I mean, the nurse seemed to think so. You can't remember anything about yourself, so…maybe…"

Rose bit her lip, thinking hard. "Why would Dr. Wright tell me my name is Rose if my name is really Olivia?" she asked finally.

"Probably the same reason that Elliot is in Chicago," Abby answered quietly. "I'm not sure exactly what that reason is."

"I still don't know," Rose said. "I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be, Abby. Rose is the only identity I know now. I can't just turn away from it. It's - it's the only thing I know." Her voice sounded close to tears.

Abby nodded slowly. "I understand," she whispered. She rolled her chair around and headed towards the exit. "It was nice talking to you…Rose."

"You too," Rose said, smiling. "Maybe I'll see you again before you leave?"

"Maybe," Abby said softly. She opened the door with her good arm and began to roll herself back into the hallway.

"Abby?"

She turned around. "Yes?"

"What do you do in Chicago - I mean, what is your job?"

Abby smiled. "I'm a doctor."

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It was nearing 11:00 when another knock sounded on Rose's door. She already knew who it would be. "Come in," she said.

The door opened and Dr. Wright entered. Rose had become accustomed to Wright's nightly checks. He strolled over to her.

"Everything all right, Rose?"

Rose had spent the last hours between Abby's departure and Wright's arrival mulling over everything the young doctor had told her. She decided she had to ask Wright a very important question.

"Who's Elliot?"

Wright's face completely changed. The soft and inviting look in his eyes was replaced with a hardened stare. Rose even noticed that his entire body had tensed at the sound of that name. But a moment later, Wright regained his composure and acted as though nothing had happened.

"I don't know, Rose," he said to her, but she sensed he was lying, for he quickly said, "Good night."

Rose gave a quiet sigh of frustration. Elliot clearly existed and it was just as clear that Wright didn't want to tell her about him. She decided that instead of venting her frustration to deaf ears, she would ask someone more likely to give her answers, namely Abby, the doctor from Chicago.

"Good night, Dr. Wright."

**All right, there is no crazy cliffhanger at the end of this one! I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, but I can guarantee it before the end of the month. Next chapter: a meeting, a confrontation, a trip, an uneasy discovery, a hostage (possibly more than one!), and more! Thanks for reading; please review!**


	10. Flying Without Wings

**A/N:** Nope, not mine. The only characters I get to own are the ones I make up...like Michael Bloomberg...Haha what a lovely thought.

**A/N:** Well the alert system going down was really annoying, now wasn't it? Anyway, I'm updating now and be happy for it, even though it ends in a cliffhanger...Thanks to my reviewers from last time: Drop Dead Saxy, GreysERChick6, CarbyLivesOn, obsessedwithstabler, onetreefan, Sweet-4-Stabler, AliasCSINYFriendsER (twice!), Hkitty9013, OElvrs4life, WuHaoNi, SVU 101, KaydenceRei, Kelly of the midnight dawn, a very exctited reader...(I'm so thrilled to hear it!), and Kate Taylor.

So I hope you all enjoy and for those of you worried about Abby's baby, this first part is for you. :)

* * *

"Ms. Lockhart?" 

Abby's head jerked up at the sound of the doctor's voice. The female doctor smiled warmly. "Your baby is just fine."

Abby let out a deep breath, very relieved. She had gone up to OB early that morning after having been jerked awake by yet another nightmare, this time about Richard and the rape. It had taken her awhile to figure out where she was, and when she remembered and was brooding about the dream, a terrifying thought had gripped her. She had gone up to OB as fast as possible, and even now she couldn't remember why she hadn't asked about the life of her baby earlier.

"Thank you," she said softly.

The doctor nodded and gave a small, knowing smile. "I consulted the ER doctors and nurses downstairs as to why they did not inform you. They were surprised when I told them, which is understandable as you're not very far along. Additionally," she pressed on. "They were also not surprised to learn that you hadn't remembered right away. The blow to your head and concussion may have caused some short term memory loss."

Abby nodded slowly, taking in the words. At least she hadn't intentionally forgotten about the baby. "So…I'm good to go?" she asked finally.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, everything looks just fine."

Abby swung her legs over the side of the bed. She hesitated, and then asked, "Can I get out of this wheelchair?"

The doctor laughed. "Somehow I knew you were going to ask me that. I asked the nurse downstairs and she said the answer to that would be yes."

Abby smiled and stood up, brushing her hair back from her face into a ponytail. "Thank you."

The doctor smiled as Abby walked slowly to the door. "You're welcome."

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_A thin blonde woman adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She sat, watching intently as the defendant answered his questions, prompted by his sleazy attorney. She scribbled something onto her notepad; the only sound that could be heard was her pen racing along the legal paper. The defense attorney finished his questioning with a smug look at the blonde prosecutor. _

_She acknowledged him, but didn't get upset by his overconfident manner. She rose slowly and deliberately from her seat, as if she had been waiting her entire life for this moment. "Are you sure that's all that happened, Mr. Zapata?" The sound had suddenly been turned on._

_Zapata didn't blink. "Yes, I am quite sure, Ms. Cabot," he said coolly._

_Cabot didn't drop her gaze, but advanced closer to the witness stand. "Are you positive?" She gave him one last chance to answer correctly, her tone equally as frigid._

_Zapata's eyes narrowed. "I don't like you questioning my authority, bitch."_

_The courtroom shifted with unease. The guards at the doors took a firmer grip on their weapons. The judge looked sternly at Zapata. "We have no use for that language here," she told him sternly._

_Zapata hadn't removed his gaze from Cabot while the judge reprimanded him. His anger was building in his face. "You think you're safe, don't you?" he taunted. She didn't flinch, but Zapata knew he was getting to her. He began to address the room at large. "You all think you're safe, don't you? You have no idea what we can do to you!" He rose from his seat, glaring angrily at the courtroom._

_The judge banged her gavel. "Sit down, Mr. Zapata!" she ordered. He didn't. "Sit down at once or I will find you in contempt!"_

_Zapata only smiled, sending a signal to a man at the back of the room. Without warning, gun shots rang throughout the courtroom. The guards scrambled to ready their weapons, but some had already been shot down. A bullet hit the blonde attorney in the back, sending her to the floor._

"_Alex!" A brown haired woman who had been drawing her gun raced towards the fallen attorney. She suddenly screamed, feeling a bullet rip through her flesh as well. _

"_Olivia…!" A man's voice yelled. His voice and the sounds of pandemonium in the courtroom faded away slowly into oblivion._

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"Come in."

Rose looked up as the door opened. Abby entered, although this time she was not in a wheelchair and was not wearing a hospital gown. Her arm was in a sling and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. "You're out of the chair, I see," Rose remarked, smiling.

Abby walked over to the bed, also smiling. "Yeah, I finally convinced the nurse that I was able to walk."

"Are you going home soon?" Rose asked.

Abby shook her head. "Not until tomorrow." She sat down on the chair next to Rose's bed that Dr. Wright usually sat in. "How are you today?"

"Confused, actually," Rose replied lightly. "I was wondering if you'd like to un-confuse me."

Abby chuckled. "I can try."

"I asked Dr. Wright last night about Elliot. Dr. Wright said he doesn't know who Elliot is…" Rose's voice trailed off. "But I think he's lying," she said suddenly.

Abby frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Rose shrugged. "I could tell." She sighed. "Can I ask you a question?"

Abby nodded. "Sure."

"Do you know anyone named Alex?"

Abby sighed, thinking hard. "I've heard that name before," she said slowly. "Let me think…" She bit her lip. "I think…Oh, I remember," she said softly.

"What?" Rose was concerned with Abby's suddenly sad tone.

Abby smiled sadly. "I heard Alex's name at your - I mean, Olivia's funeral. Casey Novak - she's an assistant district attorney who works with SVU - told me about her."

"So who was she?" Rose asked. _Was?_

"I don't know her personally," Abby said. "Casey was talking about the Witness Protection Program, which Alex was entered into. Alex was the ADA before Casey."

"ADA…" Rose repeated slowly. "So she was a lawyer?"

Abby nodded. "Yes."

Rose sighed and remained quiet for a few moments. Abby waited in silence for her to speak again. "It's all starting to make sense now," she said finally. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Abby asked.

"These dreams can't mean nothing," Rose explained. "They all mean something…Maybe they are bits and pieces of my memory…" Her voice trailed off.

Abby just looked at her. "What if they are all part of your memory?" she asked slowly. "What if you really are Olivia Benson?"

Last time Abby had suggested this, Rose has insisted it was impossible, that she had to hold onto the only thing that she had. Now, however, Rose was less sure. "Maybe," she whispered, but Abby didn't hear her. She sighed. "Tell me about Elliot," she said quietly.

"Elliot?" Abby repeated, slightly surprised. "Ah…okay." She let out a long, slow breath. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," Rose said eagerly. "How did you meet him? What is he like?"

Abby smiled. Rose only stared at her expectantly. "How did I meet him?" she repeated. "I met him in Chicago, actually. He and Olivia came undercover to protect me from my ex-husband. When I first met him, his alias was Michael Stevens and he was a janitor."

"And what was I…Olivia?"

"Olivia was applying to be a desk clerk. I remember because Carter and I were interviewing her for the job…She got it, but only because we were desperate." She laughed.

Rose smiled too. "So…What was…is…he like?"

"He's very smart, very passionate, and very determined. He refused - refuses - to give up, no matter what. Very kind, very sweet, and very much in love with Olivia."

Rose laughed. "He was in love with his partner?"

Abby nodded. "Yep. Carter and I made sure they got together in the end. They were, after all, the reason that Carter and I ended up getting married."

Rose smiled. "He sounds like a wonderful man."

Abby grinned. "He is, Rose," she assured her. "He is a wonderful man."

Rose shook her head. "Don't call me Rose," she said softly.

"What?" Abby frowned slightly.

"Don't call me Rose," Rose repeated. She grinned at Abby. "Please call me Olivia."

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Abby grinned back at Rose - Olivia. She couldn't believe it: she had found her! Olivia was alive, just like Elliot. Of course, this brought about as many questions as it answered. Why were Elliot and Olivia alive when everyone else thought them dead? Why did they now have new identities? Why-?

But Abby didn't have time to ponder all the possible answers to these questions just yet. The door opened again and a man entered. Abby figured he must be Dr. Wright. Sure enough -

"Good morning, Dr. Wright," Olivia said.

Wright smiled at his patient. "Good morning, Rose." Abby cringed slightly. Wright turned to her. "And may I ask who you are?"

"Abby Lockhart," Abby introduced herself to the doctor. Her tone was short; there was something about him that she couldn't quite place…some sense of distrust…Then she remembered that this was the man who was calling Olivia 'Rose' and was lying to one of her friends. Abby knew why she didn't trust him.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Lockhart," Wright said. His eyes fell on her arm, but he didn't ask her about it. He instead turned to Rose. "How did you meet Ms. Lockhart?" he asked her.

Rose hesitated. "She - she came into my room yesterday. Apparently I remind her of someone from her past."

"Is that so?" Wright asked. His tone was light, but somehow it made Abby shiver. His light tone did not met his eyes, which began darker and colder. "And are you who she thought you were?"

Abby shook her head, ignoring Olivia's widening brown eyes. "No. She's not who I thought she was," she answered. _Not anymore._

Abby definitely didn't trust Dr. Wright.

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Dr. Sampson Wright examined Abby Lockhart carefully. He took in her long brown hair, pulled back from her face in a ponytail, the sling she wore on her arm, the hardened look in her eye. Her face was relaxed, but he sensed there was something else she was feeling.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I hope you find who you are looking for."

Abby only nodded. "Do I need to leave?" she asked.

Wright shook his head, looking at Rose. "I can't stay long," he told her. "I have to make a trip today."

Rose frowned. "Why?"

"Business trip," Wright answered shortly. "It shouldn't take too long."

"When will you be back?"

Wright shrugged. "I'm not quire sure," he said. "It depends on a few things." He drew up another chair and sat next to Rose. "Don't worry, Rose," he said kindly. "I know you are still fighting to regain your memory. I know this seems like I'm abandoning you, but I want you to know that I'm not." She still looked unconvinced; in fact, she looked downright worried. Wright frowned. "Is everything all right?"

Rose turned her head slowly. "Are you sure my husband's name was Luke?"

Wright looked at her, slightly concerned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said: Are you sure my husband's name was Luke?" she repeated. Wright caught sight of Abby's face. Abby was looking at his patient with curiosity.

"I am sure," Wright answered slowly. "Why would you ask?"

"I just - oh, never mind," she said softly. "I just thought that maybe…maybe I had remarried or something."

Wright looked at her sadly. "No, you did not." He paused. "Is this about Elliot?" He saw Abby stir out of the corner of his eye.

Rose hesitated and then nodded. "Yes," she answered quietly.

Wright patted her arm lightly. "I still don't think this 'Elliot' has any connection to you." He sighed, seeing Rose's face fall slightly. He offered a small smile. "But maybe I can find out for you on my trip."

"Why?" Rose asked curiously. "Where are you going?"

Wright grinned. "I have an important appointment in Chicago."

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Agent Thompson drummed his fingers against the table and looked out at the group of agents assembled before him. His eyes fell on Agent Miller, and she offered him a small smile. He took a deep breath and began to address the group.

"Detective Olivia Benson and Detective Elliot Stabler are safe in their respective locations, as far as we know. This is good news. However, new evidence has suggested that their assumed assailant – Richard White – perished earlier than their attempted murder." The group shifted uneasily around him. "In addition, one of the doctors, Dr. Abby Lockhart, from Chicago was involved in a car accident in New York. She recovered, but the man who crashed into her car did not. His driver's license identified him as Derek Bloomberg. Michael Bloomberg, as you all know, was the man who abducted Detective Benson three months ago and may have been involved in the earlier attacks made against Dr. Lockhart's family. He was presumed dead, after a bomb exploded in his house."

One of the group members stirred and asked uncertainly, "_Presumed _dead, sir?"

Thompson nodded gravely. "The fire department has come to a recent conclusion that the evidence recovered at the scene of the bombing was inconclusive. They say that no one inside the house could have survived the bombing, but they could find no evidence to suggest that Bloomberg was in the house at the time the bomb went off. Because of this, we can only assume that he is still alive. Furthermore, a note was discovered in Derek Bloomberg's house after the attempted murder of Dr. Lockhart."

Thompson produced the note and began passing it around the table. "The note is signed by Michael Bloomberg. It orders the hit on Dr. Lockhart. From this we can only conclude that Michael Bloomberg ordered the hit or possibly even made the hits on Detectives Benson and Stabler. The evidence that Richard White perished earlier than the first hits were made also supports this theory." Thompson cleared his throat and looked around at the group.

"Michael Bloomberg is still out there. He has no reason to believe that Detectives Benson and Stabler are alive or that Dr. Lockhart survived the car accident. This only leaves one other hit: the other doctor involved in the first incident. That would be Dr. Lockhart's husband, John Carter.

"Dr. Carter lives in Chicago. Naturally, we can see the problem as Detective Stabler is in Chicago as well. Hopefully we can avoid the situation getting out of hand."

"So what do we do?" asked a blonde agent who was sitting next to Miller.

"We have to find him. We are going to find him before he can get to Chicago, if he isn't already there. Everyone must be working around the clock on this task: Find Michael Bloomberg!"

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John Carter and Elliot Stabler sat at Elliot's kitchen table eating Chinese take-out. The apartment was fairly empty, as Elliot hadn't bothered to unpack anything, but Carter thought it was still better than his place, which would seem even more empty as Abby wasn't there.

As though this thought had been spoken aloud, Elliot asked, "Did you hear from Abby today?"

Carter shook his head. "It's been a long time, Elliot," he said quietly. "She's only called me once, to tell me that she arrived. The last time I called her was to tell her to come home…I haven't spoken to her since."

Elliot frowned. "Did you try calling Casey?"

Carter nodded. "More than once; no one was there. I tried calling Abby's cell phone too, but she must always have it off because it goes directly to voicemail." He frowned worriedly.

Elliot bit his lip. "I'm sure she's fine, John," he said softly. Carter still looked unconvinced.

"This isn't like her," he said worriedly. "She would never do this. I know that her flight yesterday was cancelled and all the flights out today were booked, but that's only from looking online. Why hasn't she tried to call me? What do you think she's doing?"

Elliot could only shake his head hopelessly. "I don't know. I'm really sorry."

Carter sighed and pushed his half-eaten carton away from him. He took a long sip of water. "Do you think she's mad at me?"

"Did she sound mad on the phone?"

Carter shook his head. "No, she sounded fine. Well - as fine as she could be, as she was at the graveyard…"

Elliot frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe she went to see her mother's grave?"

"Without calling me?" Carter asked sharply.

"I don't know," Elliot said again. "Maybe her cell phone battery is dead?"

Carter shook his head. "It can't just be that…she could call me from Casey's phone…Something's not right, Elliot. I'm worried about her. What if something happened?"

"I-" But Elliot's words were cut off by a knock at the door. He frowned; he wasn't expecting company. He pushed his chair back slowly and walked to the door, peering through the hole. He frowned again: he didn't recognize the man on the other side. He opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked the man.

The man pulled a gun from his pocket. "I think you can."

Elliot was at first too shocked to think. He stared at the man in horror, realizing it could very well be Richard White who was now aiming the gun directly at Elliot's face.

"Let me in."

Elliot hesitated; the man took the opportunity to jab the gun into Elliot's cheek. "Now!"

Elliot made a move as though he were going to move aside, but as the man took a step through the doorway, Elliot gave him a sharp punch on the side of his face.

"JOHN, RUN!" he bellowed as the man regained his balance. He slugged Elliot across the face and punched him hard in the stomach, causing the detective to fall to his knees. Elliot couldn't see what Carter was doing; he could only hope the doctor had managed to find his way out through a window.

The assailant took advantage of the fact Elliot was on the ground be kicking him. Elliot grit his teeth against the pain, refusing to scream or cry out. He tried to drag himself to his feet, but the assailant kicked him to the ground again.

"Elliot!" Carter came rushing over. Elliot tried to shake his head furiously, but only managed a few weak shakes.

"No, John; get out!" he yelled. The man kicked Elliot's back again; Elliot's face contorted with pain.

Carter was shaking his head. "I won't-"

"LEAVE NOW!" Elliot managed to shout. "It's Richard White, John! He tried to kill me and he killed Olivia!" Elliot saw Carter's eyes widen. "Leave me and save yourself! Please, John-" But Elliot could say no more as he felt the last of his strength leave him and his world went black.

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"ELLIOT!" Carter screamed as Elliot's eyes closed and the fight left his body. The man began advancing on Carter instead.

"Dr. Carter, I presume?" The man placed the gun to Carter's temple. "We have met before."

"I don't know you," Carter said fiercely. "I don't know anything about you, except that you killed one of my friends!"

"Oh no, Dr. Carter," the man said darkly. "No, I think you'll find you know me very well. You see, your detective friend was wrong." The man jabbed the gun sharply into Carter's temple. He let the doctor's unconscious form slide to the floor before continuing.

"I am Michael Bloomberg."

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**A/N: **As Kay would say, **'hosnap!** Here we go again. Thanks for reading; please review, and I will try to update again soon! 


	11. Gravedigger

**A/N: **Nothing, nada, nil.

**A/N: **It has been awhile, guys. I am sorry for the delay, especially as I left a cliffhanger at the end of last chapter. I had lost my inspiration and desire to write at all, so this story sort of went on the backburner for awhile (I actually considered discontinuing). But, do not fear, for I have resolved to finish this story.

Next, thanks to the wonderful reviewers from last time: obsessedwithstabler, gigletrig, onetreefan, WuHaoNi, Sweet-4-Stabler, KaydenceRei, Psycho Strider, Drop Dead Saxy, x-xTwisted Nightmarex-x, Kate Taylor, Soaringmunkymuffins, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Hkitty9013, Kelly of the midnight dawn, CarbyLivesOn, Abbey06, Grey'sERChick6, estrelita lovesSVU, and Emmy. You guys rock!

**This chapter is dedicated to my reviewers for _I'll Be There_ (angsty Carby oneshot), because you gave me inspiration to write and a will to continue. **

* * *

Olivia and Abby's laughter sounded in the small room. Abby had just finished explaining how she and Carter convinced Elliot to kiss his partner months ago in Chicago. Even as she explained it, Abby couldn't believe how long ago that seemed to be: it seemed like years instead of months. So much had changed since then; although Elliot and Olivia were still alive, someone was still out there…someone who wanted them all dead. Abby shuddered, remembering how close she had been to losing them…how she had believed they were dead.

"What are you thinking about?"

Olivia's voice suddenly broke through Abby's reflections. "Oh…" she said softly. "Just…" Olivia looked at her expectantly. "I can't believe you're alive," she said finally.

Olivia smiled sadly. "I wish I could remember more about you, Abby."

"You don't know what it was like to think that you were dead," she whispered. Olivia took her hand.

"But I'm alive now," she pointed out reasonably. She tried to get Abby to smile again, make her laugh. "Don't worry, Abby," Olivia said. "I will remember you. Why don't you tell me something else?"

Abby remained silent for a long time, but Olivia didn't try to urge her further. Finally Abby asked, "Do you trust Dr. Wright?"

Olivia frowned. "Yes," she answered right away. "He's been the only one to help me and he's helped me get some of my memory back."

"But he told you your name was Rose," Abby pointed out. "Why did he do that?"

Olivia shrugged. "The same reason Elliot is in Chicago?"

Abby nodded slowly. "I guess…"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you ask me if I trusted Dr. Wright?"

Abby hesitated, and then said quietly, "I don't."

Olivia looked taken aback. "You don't trust Dr. Wright?"

Abby shook her head. "Not at all."

Olivia frowned. "Why not?"

Abby sighed. "There's just…something about him that I don't like. He gave me a weird look…It just seems like there's something familiar about him…but I can't place it…"

Olivia only nodded. "Well, he seems nice enough to me," she said. But her tone sounded uncertain.

Abby suddenly frowned. A look of worry passed over her face and she bit her lip. "Something's not right…" she whispered.

"What do you mean?" Olivia's tone was slightly alarmed.

"I-" Abby couldn't explain it. She had this sudden feeling that something was very, very wrong. She tried to clear it from her mind, but it wasn't working. The feeling remained and it began to sicken her.

Something was very wrong.

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Agent Miller walked back to the car where Agent Smith was already waiting. Smith drummed his fingers impatiently on the hood of the car; he had finished his lunch long before Miller. Miller smiled weakly as she approached.

"Have a nice break?" he asked sarcastically. Miller knew he wasn't really angry.

"That I did," she replied.

He unlocked the car and opened the door. He and Miller had been assigned to the Chicago scene; they were the first ones driving down. They were just outside the borderlines of New York state; it looked like they were in the middle of nowhere. No one else was around. He knew they still had a long way to go.

He and Miller slammed the doors behind them. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded. He turned the key and turned on the engine.

It happened in one explosive moment. Neither of the agents were alive long enough to feel the heat of the bomb as it ripped the car to shreds.

Somewhere nearby, someone in the shadows snickered quietly.

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It was rather difficult work, moving both the doctor and the detective to the car. Michael Bloomberg had not expected Elliot to be alive, but he thought he had hidden the shock of seeing the detective again rather well. Bloomberg had enjoyed beating the detective up, at any rate. He was actually starting to think this would be rather fun, being able to kill both men at once.

Bloomberg frowned. His scheme was not going at all according to plan; it seemed all attempts to wipe out the doctors and detectives had failed, miserably at that. However, he couldn't help feeling this might actually be a stroke of luck: he had a chance to make an even greater plan.

He knew he had to work quickly. He had already dragged Elliot to the car and was now coming back for Carter. Bloomberg reached down into the unconscious doctor's pocket and pulled out his house keys. Bloomberg laughed.

It was all too easy.

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"Abby?" Olivia asked hesitantly. Her tone was uncertain, worried as she watched Abby's face pale. "Abby, what's wrong?" she asked more urgently.

Abby shook her head. "Something is wrong," she murmured. "Something is very, very wrong."

"What's wrong?" asked Olivia. "What's wrong, Abby? Tell me!" Abby's tone was beginning to scare her. The doctor was still shaking her head and looked as pale as a ghost.

"I…I have to call John," Abby mumbled. "I have to call him…Something is wrong, Olivia." Abby sounded close to tears now. Her voice trembled. "Something is wrong."

Olivia looked at her companion, concern filling her deep brown eyes. Abby kept repeating that something was wrong, but seemed unable to tell Olivia what exactly was wrong. "There's a phone nearby," Olivia told her. "Go call your husband," she continued softly.

Abby nodded vaguely and began to edge towards the door. "Yes…Yes, I will call him. I'll be right back, Olivia…" Her voice trailed off and she quickly left the room.

Once in the hall, Abby dashed towards the pay phones that she remembered from a few days earlier to be somewhere in the middle of the hallway. She fumbled around in her pocket for change and then dialed her home number with shaking hands.

Why hadn't she called before now? Why had she waited so long before talking to Carter after the accident? She hadn't told him anything about Olivia…She had been too caught up with Dr. Wright and the baby…The sickening feeling in Abby's stomach made her about ready to explode.

"Come on, damn it!" she yelled into the receiver as the phone slowly received the number.

The phone rang, slowly, too slowly for Abby's comfort. She hardly dared to breathe, as if her very breath would keep Carter from answering the phone. She was close to tears and with each ring, she became more and more agitated.

"Pick up the phone," she moaned. "Please, please, pick up the phone. Come on, John. GET OFF YOUR LAZY ASS AND PICK UP THE PHONE!" she shrieked.

"Hello, you've reached Drs. John Carter and Abby Lockhart," recited Carter's calm voice on the answering machine recording. "We're unavailable right now, so please leave your name, number, and message at the tone, and we will return your call. Thank you."

The sound of Carter's recorded voice on the answering machine was almost more than the worried feeling in Abby's gut could take. When the answering machine sounded its beep, she broke down completely.

"No!" she half sobbed, half screamed into the receiver. "Please, please pick up the phone, John! Please, don't do this to me!" Her voice rose in pitch and she shrieked into the receiver. "John, please talk to me! Answer me, damn it! Please," she moaned. "Please, John…pick up the phone…"

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Carter groaned; his head ached with a pounding headache and his back felt as though he had been dragged a great distance, irritating the old wounds. He rolled slowly to his side and felt his body jolt with shock at the sight that met his eyes.

He was back at the mansion; Carter recognized the wallpaper immediately. How he had gotten there, he didn't know…the last thing he remembered was…Elliot's apartment. They were talking about Abby…but what had happen-

The memory came back sharply, abruptly. The man. The man that had beaten Elliot…White…Richard White. _He must have knocked me out and then taken me here,_ Carter realized.

Elliot was there too. Elliot was next to Carter on the ground. He lay perfectly still, his breathing slow, but noticeable. It comforted Carter to know that Elliot was still alive. The detective was still unconscious, by the looks of it, but at least he was alive. That's what really mattered.

The sound of the phone ringing shattered the deathly silence. Carter gasped with a sharp intake of breath; the sudden noise had startled him. He looked instinctively towards the door of the guest room that he and Elliot were being held in. Carter knew it was locked intuitively. There was no way it would be unlocked.

He and Elliot were prisoners. Prisoners of Richard White…prisoners in the mansion…Carter's mansion…_I'm a prisoner in my own house._

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Michael Bloomberg's head jerked upwards at the sound of the phone ringing. He was sitting on one of the plush armchairs a little ways down the hall from the guest room in which he was holding his two prisoners. The phone's ringing didn't really bother him; he would let the machine get it. The machine was right next to him. Bloomberg gloated; his plan was absolutely perfect.

The machine began to roll as the caller recorded the message. Bloomberg gasped when he heard the voice, but he could not keep the smile for gliding smugly across his thin lips. He paused, figuring out in a second how best to handle this phone call.

It was all too easy.

He pulled on the ski mask that was sitting on the table next to him and walked slowly to the guest room. He unlocked it and opened it slowly, hesitantly.

John Carter's head jerked up when he heard the door open. Bloomberg pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it at the doctor. "You, with me," he said roughly. "Now!"

Carter climbed slowly to his feet and followed Bloomberg from the room. Bloomberg kept the gun trained on Carter the entire time. Bloomberg led him to the room with the answering machine where Abby's shrill voice was still sobbing on the machine.

"John, please talk to me! Answer me, damn it! Please, please, John…pick up the phone…"

Carter's eyes widened and he looked at his captor, contempt etched in every line of his face. His heart was breaking at the sound of his wife's agony.

"Let me talk to her," he whispered fiercely. He felt the gun jab into his neck, but he refused to relent. "Let me talk to her, please!"

To his surprise, his captor grabbed the phone and shoved it into Carter's shaking hand. "One wrong move and-" He nodded significantly at the gun; Carter understood in an instant. He eagerly pressed the talk button, ignoring the cold metal against his temple.

"Abby, sweetheart, it's me," he said into the phone, as calmly as he could. Carter felt her sobs continue to pull at his heartstrings and his hatred for the man standing with the gun next to him increased even more. "I'm right here, Abby," he told her as Abby's sobs continued in his ear. "I'm sorry it took me to get so long to you, please forgive me, honey."

Abby's sobs paused. Then, uncertainly, "John?" Her voice was brittle, fragile, broken.

"I'm here, Abby," he reassured her. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, John," she said frantically. "I've been so worried. When you didn't pick up, I thought, I feared…"

"Abby, I love you. I love you so much." Carter's voice caught in his throat as he realized the direness of his situation. Would this be the last time he would ever hear Abby's voice?

"I love you too, John," she whispered. "I am sorry I couldn't call earlier. I have so much to tell you…I-"

"Abby, listen to me," Carter said. His tone was urgent. His mind was set. He knew he might die for his next move, but he had to tell her. She was his chance. She deserved to know what was happening, even if it cost him his life. He would die for her. He would die so she could save herself.

"Abby, I - I - Abby, something terrible has happened!" In an instant, Carter felt Bloomberg advance on him. Carter's tone became fast as he frantically tried to convey the information. His tone rose in pitch and he began yelling into the phone. "Richard White is alive and he's holding me and Elliot captive in the mansion!"

Bloomberg advanced instantly on Carter. He made a grab for the doctor, but Carter dodged him and began sprinting, talking as he ran. "Abby, I need you to save yourself! Please, do not come here! White will kill you; he killed Olivia!" Carter dodged a blow aimed at his head, but missed the next one that was sent at his stomach. He dropped to his knees. "I love you, Abby!" he gasped into the phone. "I love - ARGH!" Carter screamed in agony as Bloomberg kicked him repeatedly in the stomach. The phone fell from Carter's hand.

"You bastard!" Bloomberg shrieked at Carter as he beat him. "You idiot! I told you to watch your mouth!" Bloomberg stamped on Carter's nose; Carter felt it break and the blood ran everywhere. "You'll pay for this!"

"I - don't - care!" Carter yelled. "You killed Olivia; the least you could do is spare my wife! I told her to save her!"

Bloomberg bent down and slugged Carter across his bloody face. "You know what, John? It's all right with me that you told her. You know she'll come running here to save you, and then I'll be able to kill her too!" Bloomberg laughed manically. Carter was too breathless, too pained to respond. Stars danced in front of his eyes.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added silkily. "Get my name right, would you? I'm not Richard White as that idiot detective thought. I'm Michael Bloomberg!"

_Wha-_ Carter began, but he could think no more as Bloomberg delivered a final blow to his head, rendering him unconscious.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby held the phone in her hand, her breathing ragged and shallow. Her heart was racing, she could hardly believe what had happened. Carter had screamed, something was wrong. Someone - White - had attacked him. White was holding her husband and Elliot as prisoners. The sickening feeling in her stomach refused to lessen.

Abby tried to steady her breathing and think straight. The sound of her husband screaming terrified her past tears. She wiped her eyes and bit her lip. She could just leave now, it's not like she had any clothes with her anymore, as her suitcase had gone up in the flames of the car accident. Abby figured it would probably be expensive to get a plane ticket this late, but she was willing to pay that price. She had to get to Chicago.

Mind set, she raced back down the hall to the exit. She had just passed Olivia's room when the door opened.

"Abby?"

Abby whirled around. "Olivia…" Abby had forgotten about her in her hurried plan making. "Olivia, I - I have to go to Chicago."

Olivia studied her concernedly. "What happened?" she asked urgently.

Abby shook her head. "White - Richard White is holding my husband and Elliot prisoner," she whispered.

Olivia's eyes widened. "White's a rapist."

"I - What?" Abby frowned. "When - How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," Olivia replied uncertainly. Abby looked at her carefully. _Could her memory be coming back?_

She had no time to press the matter. She had to leave, had to get on the next plane to Chicago. "I have to go."

"I'm coming with you."

Abby faltered. "Olivia - you can't. It's too dangerous, and besides, how would you get out of the hospital?"

Olivia gave her a twisted smile. "Dangerous, huh? It's more dangerous for you to go alone." Abby had to admit she was right. "As for getting out of the hospital…I'll just leave."

"What?" Abby frowned. "You'll just…leave?"

Olivia nodded. "Nobody is watching me. Dr. Wright's in Chicago, remember? The nurses are off for the rest of the weekend. We can just walk out the door, get on a plane and go."

Abby hesitated for another moment, chewing on her bottom lip. It would be extremely risky to take Olivia away from the hospital when her memory was still so vulnerable and incomplete. To buy herself time, she voiced this fear aloud.

Olivia looked at the doctor intently. "Chicago holds the key to my memory. Dr. Wright has made that clear enough to me. I dream about Chicago, it was the first place to come to my mind when I was prompted by the word 'place'…Chicago means something to me, Abby. I just have to know what."

Abby nodded slowly, taking this in. She knew that time was running out and that she could do this for Olivia. The solution came to her in one, simple stroke.

"Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot's head was spinning. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the darkness of the room. He frowned, trying to remember what had happened. Where was he?

Elliot moaned; his stomach felt like it had been used as someone's punching bag - a very strong and aggressive someone. Elliot could feel the bruises beneath his fingertips. He felt as though he had been hit by a monster truck; his entire body ached.

Cautiously, he rolled over to his side. As soon as he saw the figure next to him, everything came back in a flash.

_Carter…the door…the gun…White…_

Carter was looking back at Elliot through bruised eyes. His face was bloody and his nose was squashed - broken? Elliot's eyes widened as he looked at his friend's broken body. Elliot winced. He wished Carter had just left the apartment when he had the chance.

"He's asleep now," Carter whispered when he saw Elliot looking at him.

"White?" Elliot croaked. His throat burned when he tried to speak.

Carter shook his head, his eyes wide and terrified. "Bloomberg."

"What?"

Carter nodded gravely. "It's him, Elliot. He has us here, at my mansion. This is one of the guest rooms."

Elliot let out a deep sigh. "Why didn't you just leave?" he asked mournfully. "What did he do to you?"

Carter shook his head. "I couldn't leave you there…And I brought this upon myself." Elliot looked at him confusedly so Carter continued in a hollow voice. "Abby called. She got the answering machine, and she was so scared. She sensed something was wrong. She was sobbing, Elliot.

"Bloomberg let me talk to her, but he warned me not to tell her where we were. I - I couldn't help it. I told her and Bloomberg…" Carter's voice trailed off as he indicated his nose. He didn't need to say anymore.

Elliot nodded slowly, taking the information in. "But…Bloomberg? He's supposed to be dead, isn't he?"

Carter gave a half-shrug. "I guess not. But now's not the time to think about it."

Elliot nodded again. "You're right. Listen…John," Elliot began seriously. Carter leaned his head in closer, concerned. "Look, this is a pretty bad situation. Who knows what will happen to us? I want you…need you to promise me something."

Carter's eyes widened and he nodded quickly. "Anything."

"I need you to promise me that if things get really bad, if Bloomberg tries to kill one of us, that you let me die for you." Elliot's voice was barely a whisper.

Carter gasped. "No!" Elliot shook his head, but Carter didn't stop. "No, Elliot, I can't. I won't let you die, not for this-"

Elliot's eyes suddenly snapped to the door. Carter fell silent as he listened intently too. Both men could hear the faint noises of stirring on the other side. They knew that Bloomberg must now be awake.

"Promise me, John. No matter what happens, please promise me that you will leave me and save yourself. Olivia is dead, John. She's dead and she's not coming back. But Abby…Abby is still alive. Abby needs you to stay alive for her. You know it. She will not be able to handle your death. You have to stay alive for her, if nothing else. Please, promise me."

Carter closed his eyes and then nodded slowly. "I promise," he whispered.

The door suddenly opened and Bloomberg entered. He looked at Carter and then Elliot, his smile widening.

"Ah, Detective, glad you could join us. Get up now, both of you! Got a special surprise for you. One you would _die_ for…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby and Olivia watched the rain beat down hard on the taxi window as it pulled closer to the mansion. Neither woman spoke; each was too absorbed in her own thoughts. Abby had been quiet almost the entire trip and Olivia's attempts to engage her in conversation had only resulted in minimal words. After that, Olivia had fallen silent, allowing Abby to pull herself away into her own circle of grief.

When the taxi pulled to a stop, Abby threw some bills at the driver and leapt out of the car, racing through the rain to the doorstep. She fumbled in her pocket for her key. When she finally pulled it out, her hands were shaking so much, she could barely fit it in the hole. She finally entered it, and turned the knob. She and Olivia raced inside.

"John?" Abby called. Her voice echoed in the seemingly empty mansion. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned to Olivia. "We better split off; we'll cover the ground faster. You take this floor and I'll go upstairs."

Olivia nodded and walked off in search of the bottom floor. Abby tore up the spiral staircase. She could hardly breathe from anticipation. The sickening feeling in her stomach that something was terribly wrong had come back to her and she fought to keep herself from throwing up.

There was nothing there…no one…not in the master bedroom, or any of the guest bedrooms…not in the living room…no one, nothing.

She raced back down the stairs only to find Olivia shaking her head dejectedly. The former detective's eyes were wide and fearful.

"What?" asked Abby, her heart racing. "What did you find?"

When she came closer, Abby noticed tears in Olivia's brown eyes. They did nothing to calm her nerves. Slowly, she took the piece of paper in Olivia's hand and read it quickly. Hopelessness and despair welled up inside of her. They were too late. Abby screamed and collapsed to the ground, dissolving in tears.

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**A/N:** Yes, a cliffhanger. Haha, I'm evil. Please review and I will try to get the next chapter up...sometime soon. No guarantees though. 


	12. All Is Fair In Love

**A/N: **I don't own anything. DAMN IT!

**A/N:** Thanks to the reviewers from last time: X-xTwisted Nightmarex-X, Kelly of the midnight dawn, Sweet-4-Stabler, Hkitty9013, onetreefan, PaceyW's girl, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, amanda-WeasleyPotter, Kate Taylor, Jenna, Neela149, Abbey06, KaydenceRei, and estrelita lovesSVU. Much love to all of you! Please enjoy and review! Also, the italics indicate flashbacks, of which there are many!

**This chapter is dedicated to** **Sarah for all of her inspiration. She doesn't even watch the shows, but without her, I never would have been able to write this chapter. I love you! Also to Estrelita and Rach for urging me to continue even when I wasn't too sure I liked where it was going.**

_

* * *

_

_To whom it may concern:_

_I know what you're looking for and it's not here - not anymore, anyway. You're too late, as always, one step behind. I have been unsuccessful one too many times since this all started, but that's about to change. _

_In fact, it already has._

The note wasn't signed, but Abby and Olivia knew who had written it. Olivia felt tears of hopelessness slip down her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to Abby, who was on the floor. Abby was sobbing and Olivia could feel the cries pull at her heart. She wanted nothing more than to be able to help her, make this better. But it seemed nothing could - they were too late, Bloomberg had told them. Olivia dropped to her knees beside her friend.

"Abby," she whispered. "Abby, I'm so sorry." She reached out a hand and placed it on Abby's shoulder, but to her surprise, the doctor jerked away.

"Don't touch me."

Olivia was stunned and hurt by Abby's sudden hostility. She bit her lip and looked back at the note.

"_How good are you at solving riddles, Detective Benson?" _

Olivia gasped as the memory came back to her in a flash. It was only a moment, only one line, but in that, she had recognized the voice as Michael Bloomberg's. But no - not just Bloomberg's. It seemed almost like someone else's voice - someone that she had heard recently…but who…?

Olivia twisted the note around in her hands anxiously, thinking, trying to remember. Absentmindedly, she began to twirl the gold ring on her finger. She had almost forgotten about it; it seemed like such a long time had passed since she had first discovered it in the hospital. As she twirled the ring, she noticed something on the piece of paper in her hand. Olivia frowned at it and then flipped it over. Her eyes widened at the text:

_Place_

_Job_

_Letter_

_Name_

_Housing_

_Carmichael_

_Smell_

"Abby," she said loudly, trying to catch her attention. "Abby, there's something written here!"

Abby looked up at Olivia through puffy eyes. "What?" Her tone was still cold, but not as hostile as before. It was slightly laced with interest.

Olivia handed the note over to her. "I think it's some kind of riddle."

Abby frowned. "Bloomberg sent us a riddle before, but it made much more sense than this. Some letters were capitalized and we figured out it was an anagram. But these are actual words…none of these are anagrams…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

"_How good are you at solving riddles, Detective Benson?"_

Olivia shut her eyes, trying to remember…Why did the voice sound so familiar…?

"_I want you to respond with the first word that comes to mind. Don't think about it: just respond. Do you understand?"_

Olivia's eyes flew open. "No…" she groaned. "Oh god, no…"

"What's wrong?" asked Abby, clearly concerned.

Olivia was shaking her head, tears filling her eyes again. "I can't believe this…"

"What?" Abby asked more urgently, her tone fearful now.

"You said that you didn't trust him…Is that because he reminded you of someone?"

Abby frowned. "Olivia, what are you…?" Her thoughts drifted back to Dr. Wright. Abby didn't trust him. But _why_?

And the realization struck in one sickening moment.

"Wright is Bloomberg!"

Olivia nodded, looking sickened at the thought. "These words…we played a game like this. It was supposed to help me get my memory back. He would name a word and I would say the first thing that came to mind." She looked down at the sheet again. "Some of these words were ones that he used. 'Place' would be Chicago. 'Job' would be doctor. 'Letter' was E."

"Wait," said Abby. She grabbed a pen from the hall table. "Can I see that list again?" Olivia handed her the list and Abby scribbled down the responses.

_Place - Chicago_

_Job - Doctor_

_Letter - E_

_Name_

_Housing_

_Carmichael_

_Smell_

"It has to be another riddle," she murmured. "These have to match something that will tell us where he is…and where Elliot and John are." She frowned. "What do you think the rest of them are? Did you cover any of the rest of them?"

Olivia shook her head. "The rest of them I guess I'll have to figure out."

"But this could be impossible!" exclaimed Abby. "How could he guarantee you'd figure out exactly where he is with the exact wording!"

Olivia shrugged. "Maybe he's just trying to give me a chance…And maybe he doesn't care if I get it right or not."

Abby bit her lip. "Well, I guess we have to try then." She looked at the list again. "Can you tell me the first thing that comes to mind?" Olivia nodded. "Name?"

"Rose." Abby wrote the response down on the paper.

"Housing?"

"Apartment."

"Carmichael?"

Olivia frowned. "Rose again," she said slowly. "That can't be right."

"Never mind for now," said Abby. "Just answer the last one. Smell?"

"Lily."

Abby wrote the last response down carefully on the paper. The revised list was even more perplexing.

_Place - Chicago_

_Job - Doctor_

_Letter - E_

_Name - Rose_

_Housing - Apartment_

_Carmichael - Rose_

_Smell - Lily_

"This can't be right," said Olivia as she peered at the list over Abby's shoulder. "This still doesn't make any sense."

Abby frowned at the list too. "Chicago doctor…that could mean John, right? A doctor from Chicago?"

Olivia looked at the list and then nodded. "That seems to fit. But then shouldn't the next two be something that relates to Elliot?"

"Well, the letter E does," Abby pointed out. "And that's followed by 'name.' Maybe the name is supposed to start with the letter E."

"Meaning that it would be Elliot," Olivia continued. "That makes sense too. Change that."

_Place - Chicago_

_Job - Doctor_

_Letter - E_

_Name - Elliot_

_Housing - Apartment_

_Carmichael - Rose_

_Smell - Lily_

"Elliot's apartment!" exclaimed Abby. "That must be where they are - Elliot's apartment in Chicago!"

Olivia bit her lip. "But where is that? Have you ever been there?"

Abby's face fell. "No."

"Maybe that's what the rest of the riddle is for?" Olivia suggested. "Maybe it's a street or something?"

Abby frowned. "That's a good idea, but I don't think your answers are related to any streets. Let's take a closer look at them. Why does 'Carmichael' make you think 'Rose'?"

"That was my name," Olivia whispered. "Rose Carmichael."

Abby nodded, her eyes widening. "That's probably right then. Smell…Why lily?"

Olivia suddenly gasped. "That's not right!" she exclaimed. "Smell is wood, not lily! We did this one too!"

_Carmichael - Rose_

_Smell - Wood_

"Rosewood," Abby read to herself. "That's a street; it's near Country General!"

"An apartment on Rosewood Street," Olivia murmured. "Which apartment?"

Abby looked at the sheet and then smiled wryly. "Apartment E."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rosewood Street, apartment E, approximately three and a quarter miles from County General Hospital. Bloomberg led his two prisoners up the stairs to Elliot's apartment, guiding them at gunpoint. Carter and Elliot were silent throughout the ordeal, not saying a word to each other even. Elliot tried once or twice to catch Carter's eye, but the doctor kept his head down the entire time.

The party reached the landing and Bloomberg pointed to the door. "In." It wasn't locked. Elliot entered first and then Carter; Bloomberg shut the door behind them, but didn't lock it. He forced them to sit on the couch.

"Now then," he said, looking at his two hostages. Elliot looked at his assailant, willing himself not to leap to his feet and rip the man apart limb by limb. Hatred was etched in every line on his face. "We're not going to have anymore games. No more tricks. No more mistakes. This is going to be done, once and for all."

Elliot's mind was racing. He knew where he kept his gun, but he was trying to configure a plan that would enable him to obtain it. He kept one ear on the conversation; the rest of his mind was devoted to forming an escape plan. Bloomberg was still talking.

"I have wanted to kill you for so long. It seemed that every plan I had formulated failed. Elliot didn't die when I shot him. Abby didn't die in that car accident. Olivia is-"

"WHAT?"

Bloomberg paused and looked at Carter, who had leapt to his feet, his hands balled into angry fists.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Carter?" Bloomberg asked mildly.

"John, sit down," Elliot whispered urgently, his concentration broken. Carter ignored him.

"What did you do to Abby? "

Bloomberg smiled. "Nothing…unfortunately."

Carter's eyes bulged and he lounged forward. Elliot quickly stopped him. "Sit down," Elliot told him.

Carter shook his head. "No! I want to know what this bastard did to my wife!"

Bloomberg stepped forward so that he was inches away from Carter's angry face. "I sent my brother to kill her while she was in New York. Didn't you ever wonder why she didn't call you? Didn't you wonder what was taking her so long to get back to Chicago?"

Carter's eyes widened and he strained against Elliot's hold to get to Bloomberg. Bloomberg continued, "It was a head on collision; I'm still shocked that she didn't die. His truck smashed right into her, but she still managed to survive. Derek didn't. She'll pay for that!" Carter wrenched himself free from Elliot and leapt onto Bloomberg, tackling him to the ground. Elliot took the chance to dash out of the room to his bedroom, where he kept his gun. He knew that he had to hurry, that he shouldn't abandon Carter with Bloomberg, but he knew another gun would be needed. Carter couldn't beat Bloomberg to death.

Elliot raced into his room and leapt over his suitcase to the dresser where he kept the weapon. He could still hear the sounds of the two men fighting in the living room. He hurriedly grabbed the gun and jammed some extra bullets into it. As he finished, he noticed an ominous silence had overtaken the apartment. Breathing heavily, Elliot turned around, gun drawn.

Bloomberg stood in his doorway, his nose bloody, but his eyes menacing. Elliot's stomach dropped. He raised his gun. "The game ends here."

Bloomberg smiled and pulled the trigger. It just missed Elliot, hitting the mirror behind him and shattering it. "The game has just begun."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby slammed the door of her car shut and ran out into the pouring rain to the apartment complex, Olivia at her side. They hurried onto the sidewalk, side-stepping puddles as the raindrops splashed at their ankles. As she ran, Olivia could feel the weight of the gun jiggling against her side. It was Carter's gun; Abby had told her to take it with them. She reached down, brushing her fingers against the cool metal. A clap of thunder was heard and Olivia saw the light in the lamppost flicker.

_A pale red light cast a weak shadow onto the concrete. _

They turned the corner and Olivia heard Abby curse that they couldn't have parked closer. They passed a bus stop and Olivia noticed a tall woman talking on her cell phone while she waited.

_A woman stood in the shadow talking on a cell phone. Her caramel colored hair was fluttering slightly around her face in the wind. She laughed, apparently entertained at something the person on the other end of the line had said. _

Olivia frowned and blinked. These images reminded her of something and yet she couldn't place it. The light of another lamp post flickered.

_The red light went out and then flickered a bit. _

"We're almost there," she heard Abby say. Instinctively, Olivia grabbed the gun, making sure it was still there. Her heart rate quickened; she was nervous. As they approached the entrance of the building, a car raced by the sidewalk, splashing water onto the curb.

_The sound of car wheels squealing as they turned a corner could be heard. _

Olivia gasped and suddenly staggered. She grabbed her head as the memory came flooding back to her more quickly. She pressed her hands over her eyes.

_A loud crack resounded and the woman fell. She lay on the ground for awhile, blood pouring from a wound on her abdomen. It was dark in the alley and the red light would occasionally go out, throwing the image into darkness._

"Olivia?"

_Suddenly, a man came running into the picture. She saw his face drain slowly in color as he dropped to his knees beside the woman. He was dressed well, in a suit, as though he were coming out of a fancy restaurant, or having just attended an important dinner, or both. He pressed his hands against her blood-stained abdomen, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. _

"Liv, can you hear me?" Abby's tone was urgent.

Olivia staggered and fell against the wall. "It's coming back, Abby…"

"Your memory?"

Olivia nodded, unable to do much else. The images were overwhelming. Suddenly - nothing could have prepared her for this - the scene changed. Not the actual scene, Olivia noticed a moment later, but the perspective. She was now on the ground…she was the victim…

She was the victim…The woman she had been dreaming about…She was the woman. She had been shot.

_The man was shouting in desperation. She tried to get a good look at his face, but it was becoming harder to see him. The image was blurring…the woman was fading out of consciousness…_

"Go!" Olivia gasped at Abby, gesturing with her hand towards the building. "Just go, I'll catch up!"

"Are you sure?" Olivia could tell Abby was torn between staying with her and saving her husband.

"Positive!" Olivia said through gritted teeth. She heard Abby leave her as the memory continued to flood back.

"_Elliot…" she moaned._

"_Olivia," Elliot gasped. The man called Elliot pressed harder onto the woman's stomach, adding more pressure to the wound. _

Olivia gasped and clutched her stomach, remembering the feeling of his strong hands on her abdomen.

"_Liv, stay with me, okay? Casey's called for the ambulance. They know where we are, honey. They're coming, I promise."_

"_It hurts so much, El…"_

"_I know it does, sweetheart. Liv, stay with me. I know it hurts, Olivia. Just hold on – help is on the way."_

"_I love you, Elliot…" _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The door was closed when Abby reached it. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and she sought to compose herself, prepare herself for anything she might see. She took a deep breath and tested the doorknob. It wasn't locked. She took another breath and then pushed the door open slowly.

She didn't see anyone at first. She had stepped into a small living room. Careful not to make much noise, she walked slowly across the wooden floor. There was a worn couch in front of her. She reached it, her eyes scanning the space around her. Her eyes fell on the floor and she gasped.

Abby quickly covered her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She quickly crossed around the couch and dropped to her knees beside Carter. Her breathing was uneven as she looked at him; her eyes filled with tears.

_He's dead._

Carter was lying facedown on the carpet. She couldn't see his face, but she could see the blood that was seeping out from under his face. She quickly rolled him over, fearing the worst. She clamped her hand to her mouth again.

Carter's entire face was bloody. His nose looked broken; Abby could see dry blood and dark bruises. His mouth was still bleeding, probably from a punch to the jaw. His eyes were closed.

"Oh John," Abby whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "What did he do to you?" She brought her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. She exhaled loudly when she found one. She then brought her ear to his mouth to see if he was breathing. She closed her eyes in relief. He was.

Her breath caught in her throat at the cool metal weight at her temple.

"Get up."

Abby opened her eyes and looked at Michael Bloomberg. His face was also bruising, but his eyes were as dark and cold as ever. She shuddered nervously.

"Get up now or I'll shoot you."

Abby didn't move. "Where's Elliot?" she asked, her tone frightened, but even.

Bloomberg jabbed the gun into her head. "Get up, bitch."

"Don't you _touch_ her."

Abby's eyes darted from Bloomberg to the other side of the room. It was Elliot, his eyes blazing, his gun aimed at Bloomberg. Abby exhaled deeply. Elliot was alive.

"Abby, move!" he yelled at her.

She just looked at him, her eyes pleading in desperation. She tried to make him understand that she couldn't leave Carter so vulnerable.

Elliot shook his head. "Move now, Abby!"

Bloomberg jabbed the gun at her again with so much force that she fell sideways. She blinked, trying to clear her head from the pain. A gunshot rang out.

It was Elliot who had fired. The bullet had soared just above Bloomberg's head, lodging itself into the wall behind him. Bloomberg stumbled backwards, and in that moment, Elliot grabbed Abby and pulled her to her feet, moving his body in front of her.

"He won't hurt John, just worry about saving yourself," he whispered to her before turning back and aiming the gun at Bloomberg again.

"It's just me and you, Michael."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The memory had left her weak and shaking. Olivia struggled to regain her breath after it had faded to black. It had explained so many things to her - it had explained what she had been dreaming about, and what had happened. Why she had felt pressure on her abdomen that one night…maybe why she had been in a coma…or why Elliot was in Chicago…

Elliot! She was brought back to the present instantly. She blinked the rain out of her eyes and hurried into the apartment building. She ran up the stairs to apartment E, pulling the gun from her side as she went.

The door was open. Olivia walked forward cautiously, gun first. She waited and listened in the doorway with bated breath.

"Abby, move!" a man yelled. "Move now, Abby!"

A gunshot suddenly rang out, catching Olivia off guard. She moved forward quickly to get a better look at the scene in front of her.

"It's just you and me, Michael."

"_Michael, Michael, this is a mistake."_

"_Mistake? I see no mistake. You obviously are not obedient enough to fulfill my desires without this. Now you see, Detective Benson, this is how I play the game. And I think this is an ideal time for my second question."_

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut as the memory hit her again. This was a different memory, she knew, one when she was still called Detective Benson. She tried to push it from her mind, tried to focus on the scene unfolding in front of her, but it was too strong.

"_So, my second question, and the real reason I brought you here, was to find out this: Where is Abby?"_

"_I don't know. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."_

"_I think you're lying!" _

"Is that so, Elliot?" Bloomberg asked.

"Yeah," he challenged. "Don't involve Abby in this. You can take me instead."

Bloomberg laughed coldly. "Is that so, Elliot? Well, then why don't you drop your weapon and we can work this out like real men?"

"_Why don't you drop your weapon, and we can work this out?"_

"_I don't think so, Olivia. You tell me where she is, or I'll kill you!"_

"Like you won't kill us both the moment that happens," Elliot said scornfully. "Why are you doing this, Michael?"

"Doing what, Elliot? Doing this?" Bloomberg gestured openly around the room. "It begins and ends with our friend here," he said, pointing at Abby.

Olivia's eyes flew open as the memory ended. Her memories were flooding back now, faster than ever before. She raised her gun, aiming at Bloomberg's back. The movement felt so familiar, so standard, like she had done it so many times before. She adjusted her arm slightly to get a better shot, and then faltered.

Something felt different about the gun in her hand. She had had a gun in her hands many times before, but something was different about it this time. Olivia frowned deeply, looking at her hand. The difference hit her in a moment.

The ring. It was pressing against the gun. _I've never had this ring before,_ Olivia realized. Without really knowing why, she lowered the gun quickly and put it in her coat pocket. She brought her right hand to her left and began to twist the ring off her finger.

"The story is the same as it was before," Bloomberg said softly. "Nothing has changed - except that this time, there will be no mistakes. That bomb didn't kill any of you and it didn't kill me either. You know why I want you dead. I want you all dead.

"Now, I'm going to give you one last chance to drop your weapon. If you don't, I will not hesitate to shoot, starting with Dr. Carter over here." Abby whimpered and Elliot shot her a warning glance. "I'm going to count to three."

"Michael -"

"One."

The ring was hard to get off, but Olivia finally managed to twist it off. It fell into the palm of her hand, the gold band winking up happily at her. She looked at it, and then she frowned.

"Two."

She brought it closer to her eyes to get a better look at the writing that seemed to be inside of it. Her eyes widened when she read it.

_I will love you forever, Liv. - El_

In an instant, it fell into place. Olivia felt all her memories rush back as the dam holding them back was finally broken.

She and Elliot were interrogating a suspect while Alex observed them…she was testifying in court about a child rapist…she was looking at her first decapitated victim…Elliot was comforting her after a tough acquittal…

Alex was gunned down on the sidewalk…Casey was unconscious on her office floor…Maggie was lying in the tub, her limp wrist hanging over the side…They were reading a note…Eric was dead…She was a desk clerk being interviewed by Abby and Carter…

She saw Elliot get hit with a bullet…She saw Carter propose to Abby and then marry her…She received a threatening phone call…She watched Maggie and Eric sink into the cold ground at a funeral…

She woke up in the presence of Michael Bloomberg…He interrogated her about Abby…She prayed to God through her tears for the first time since she was a little girl…She was rescued again…

She and Elliot were sitting in a restaurant…She felt the bullet rip into her flesh as she fell to the ground…She saw Elliot leaning over her, his face brimming with tears…

Without knowing what she was doing, she pulled the gun from her pocket.

_I will love you forever, Liv…_

"Three."

Olivia pulled the trigger and the gunshot echoed across the room. It hit Bloomberg square in the back and he fell sideways. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man holding a gun directly across from her.

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**A/N:** We're coming to the end, guys. Only two chapters left!

**P.S.** This isn't exactly relevant, but _My Heart Will Go On_ was playing on my ipod as I wrote this last scene. It was too funny!


	13. Never Saw A Miracle

**A/N:** Still don't own squat. So many snowflakes though...Can I wish on them? Please?

**A/N: **20 reviews for last chapter! Thanks guys! I am so thrilled. And you know what else??? **We are at 200 combined reviews! **Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! You know I would normally thank you all, but it is late, and I am so tired. I'm sure you guys would rather have the chapter instead of the individuals thank yous, so that's what you're getting. HAHA!

Some shout-outs are in order though. First to **Hkitty9013** for reminding me in a review for _November Without You_ not to forget about this story. Second to **KaydenceRei** for her awesome work and her ability to make me laugh hysterically over the dumbest things sometimes. Third to **estrelita **for always being there for me and inspiring me to continue writing when I couldn't find the strength in myself. And finally, to **sarah**, my 200th reviewer! Thank you so much! You really made my day there!

Enjoy this chapter, everyone. And if you review if, I will be even happier!

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Abby jerked awake suddenly as her head slid from her hand and hit the window. She rubbed her eyes, listening to the rainstorm outside. She blinked a few times, trying to remember where she was. 

She was at County General, and by the lack of noise coming from the hallway and the pale shadow of the moonlight dancing across the floor, it was very late. She checked her watch; it was just after midnight.

Abby slowly moved from the hard chair in which she had fallen asleep, stretching her aching back. She stood up and walked across the room to the bed. Moonlight was falling onto the white sheets, illuminating them silver. Carter lay on the bed, his face bruised terribly. Abby slowly sank down onto the bed next to him.

She used her left hand to brush some of the hair out of his eyes as he slept, feeling the bruises beneath her fingertips as she did so. Gently, Abby stroked her husband's face, feeling tears well up in her eyes thinking about how he had gotten those injuries. She traced over the bruises, feeling the hatred and wrath of Bloomberg beneath her fingers. She blinked back her tears and slowly leaned forward, pressing her lips tenderly to his.

"It's been a long time since you've done that."

Abby pulled back and looked up, startled. Carter was looking back at her, a faint smile on his face. He took her left hand in his right and began stroking it gently.

"What happened to your other arm?" he whispered.

"I was in a car accident on the way to the airport," Abby responded.

Carter's eyes widened. "Is that baby okay?" he asked softly. Abby nodded and Carter smiled faintly. "That's good." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Abby lsid er hand from his grasp and touched his face lightly.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a whisper.

Carter opened his eyes. "Long story." Abby shrugged and looked at him inquisitively. Carter sighed.

"You know some of the story," he began. "After you left, Elliot came down to the ER looking for you, and that's when he told me what had happened. He told me that he was in the Witness Protection Program, but that Olivia was dead." Abby began to stop him, but then decided not to interrupt. Carter continued.

"Bloomberg came to Elliot's apartment and took us back to the mansion. When you called, I tried to warn you not to come here - I didn't want to put you in danger, Abby." Abby felt tears slowly come to her eyes at her husband's painful sincerity. She blinked back tears as he finished his story.

"Bloomberg brought us back to Elliot's apartment…" Carter was silent for a moment, and then whispered, 'I don't really remember anything else."

Abby nodded. She doubted there was much time that had passed between her arrival at the apartment and the time Bloomberg had brought his hostages back there.

"John," Abby began softly, tentatively, bringing his attention back to her. "Olivia's alive."

Carter's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Abby nodded, sighing. "After I was in the car accident, I meant to call you right away. The phone on my floor was in use, so I went up a floor. Olivia was there, in one of the rooms."

"As a nurse?" Carter asked, frowning.

Abby shook her head. "As a patient. She had lost her memory after being in a coma. She thought - she had been told - that her name was Rose Carmichael. Her doctor played along with the lie."

Carter's frown deepened. "That's quite unethical," he began, but Abby pressed a finger to his lips.

"It was Bloomberg," she whispered, and Carter fell silent at once. "He was pretending to be her doctor. I didn't quite recognize him at first, but all the pieces fell together. He left for a 'business trip' in Chicago a day or so before Olivia and I did. When we found the riddle at the mansion, we knew it was him.

"Olivia knew what it was almost immediately. It was a word association game she and Bloomberg had played as an attempt to get her memory back - that's when we realized her doctor and Bloomberg were the same person."

"Will Olivia ever get her memory back?" Carter asked.

Abby nodded. "She already is. As we got closer to the apartment, she began having all of these flashbacks of her attack - or other things, maybe. She told me to run ahead, so I did. When she arrived, she shot Bloomberg in the back."

Carter reached up and cupped Abby's chin, drawing her face closer to his so he could kiss her. "So it's finally over," he whispered.

Abby blinked back tears. "Tell me we'll be okay," she whispered back anxiously.

Carter smiled. Hew knew she was thinking the same thing he was. He kissed her again.

"We'll be okay."

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Elliot say up in his hospital bed waiting for her to arrive. His doctor had said, told him, _promised_ that he could see her now. Elliot had, of course, been waiting for this moment anxiously since the moment he had first seen her at the apartment. A gunshot had rang out and Bloomberg had fallen forward, and then…he had seen her.

A soft knock echoed on the door. Elliot's heart raced. "Come in," he called.

The door opened and Olivia entered. Her hair was down, framing her face. She was wearing a hospital gown, but Elliot thought she still looked beautiful. He felt his heart fill with joy as he saw her again. He smiled as she walked over to his bed. Her eyes were wide, almost fearful. He remembered what the doctors had told him about her memory.

"Olivia," Elliot whispered gently. "Do you know who I am?"

She stared at him for another moment, and then smiled. "Elliot."

Elliot grinned and reached his arm out to her. He took her hand and led her slowly over to sit down on his bed.

"I remember you," she said softly. "I always knew that the name Elliot was important to me, but it wasn't until Abby told me who you were - and who I was - that I was able to put the pieces back together."

Elliot smiled. "Smart girl, that Abby." Olivia laughed.

"I found this," she began, her tone becoming more serious. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring Elliot had given her so long ago. "I - when I was in the apartment, and holding that gun, I noticed that my grip had changed. I looked at my hand and…there it was." She slowly reached out her hand and dropped the ring back into Elliot's hand.

Elliot's eyes grew wide, fearful, and his heart sank. "Olivia," he began, his voice breaking. "I-"

Olivia shook her head. Oddly enough, she was smiling. "I gave it back to you…because I want you to give it to me again, for real." Elliot's face was slowly breaking into a smile. "Please…propose to me again," she whispered.

Elliot swung his legs around the bed and pulled Olivia to her feet with him. He had to do it right this time. He knelt down on one knee in front of her, ignoring the absurdity of the situation. It was not how he would have planned it, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Olivia Benson, will you marry me?"

Olivia pulled Elliot to his feet, and instead of answering verbally, pulled him close to her and kissed him. She broke away, grinning.

"In case you couldn't tell," she whispered. "That means yes."

Elliot laughed and kissed her again. "I could tell."

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Abby dialed the number slowly, feeling each button press down with the weight of her finger. She finished entering the number and let out a nervous sigh. She swallowed hard and brought the phone to her ear. It rang three times before the person on the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Casey, this is Abby," she greeted cautiously.

"Abby!" The ADA sounded surprised. "Did you get back okay?"

Abby bit back a laugh. "Actually, no. But I'm here now." She paused to collect herself, and then continued, "Olivia and Elliot are alive."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Casey didn't speak for a long time before finally asking weakly, "How?"

"Witness protection," Abby answered. "Elliot was sent here as a social worker…and Olivia was at a hospital in New York."

"New York?" Casey repeated. "Why was she still in New York if she was in the WPP? And how did you manage to find her?"

Abby bit her lip. "I…was in a car accident on the way to the airport." Abby sighed as she listened to Casey gasp on the other end of the line. Abby had resigned herself to explaining the entire ugly situation to Casey. She spoke for fifteen minutes straight. She told the ADA about Bloomberg, Olivia, Wright, Elliot, and Carter. She explained how she had realized Olivia's doctor was Bloomberg, and that Bloomberg was alive. She told Casey about the riddle and how she and Olivia had solved it and then how they had found Elliot and Carter and saved them. The ADA was silent for several moments after Abby had finished speaking.

"Wow," was all she could say.

Abby smiled tiredly and repeated her words. "Wow."

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Later that day, Olivia found herself on top of the County General Hospital roof. She had insisted on wearing normal clothes, so Abby's friends at the hospital had come together to find her something more suitable to wear. She felt the wind blow through her hair, pushing strands into her face. She was about to push the stubborn strands behind her ear when someone did it for her. He brushed his fingers against her cheek and she turned around.

"Hi," Elliot whispered. He cupped her face in his hands, gently rubbing his fingers over her cheeks.

"Hi," Olivia whispered back. She wasn't sure why they were whispering, but there was something intimate about it. That even though they were alone on the rooftop, they only needed their whispers to hear the other, to be close to the other.

"You know I never saw a miracle before I saw you, Liv?"

Olivia smiled. "Elliot," she began, but he cut her off.

"You don't know how my world fell apart when I thought you were dead, Olivia. I didn't know how I would move on, if I even could. And in a way, I never did. You are the world to me, and I just wanted you-" He was suddenly cut off by Olivia pressing her finger to his lips.

"Elliot," she whispered. "Don't talk like that, Elliot." He shook his head.

"I can't live without you, Olivia. I don't know how I would have been able to do it if-"

Olivia shook her head. "And you won't have to, Elliot." He had nothing to say to this, so he just stared at her. Olivia looked at him, her eyes full of fiery sincerity.

"Here we are," she whispered.

Elliot stared at her for a moment, and then kissed her. He held the kiss for a long moment, feeling Olivia's lips beneath his, the lips of the woman he loved, of his future wife…

"Here we are."

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**A/N:** ER readers, I will honestly lose all faith in the Carbyness if the Carby fans out there cannot get the obvious allusion in the opening scene. If you have been watching this season, you may get the allusion in the EO scene that follows it, but maybe not. All of you, please review and the epilogue will be up on March 2. (Can anyone figure out why I chose that date in particular?) 


	14. The End

Hello Readers,

After much consideration, I have decided not to write an epilgoue to this story. I realized that of the scene I was going to write, I had already explored the only two aspects of it I could write in other works (_"Love Among the Ruins" _and _If You're Not the One_), and so I decided not to bore you all by repeating the same scene. Without the scene, the epilgoue seemed a bit pointless, so I decided to leave the story as it is. I don't think there are any loose ends left in the plot, and the epilogue would have been just fluff anyway, so no worries on that. However, if something was not made clear to you, please send me a message and I will answer your questions.

I guess that means that this is the end. It's hard to believe that when I first began writing _Like Trees in November_, it was just an idea in my head. I kept waiting for someone to write a crossover with ER and SVU, but when no one ever did, I decided I would take it upon myself to write it. And after I had written the first part, I never imagined it would be anything more than that. Look how wrong I was!

By the way, _Like Trees in November_ was published **exactly one year ago today**which is why the epilogue was supposed to be up today. For those of you that guessed a new episode of ER, that would be impossible, seeing as ER airs on Thursdays. At any rate, neither show will have any new episodes for at least another month.

There are so many people I want to thank for sticking by me as I was writing this story. There were people that I could constantly count on to review every time, and there were people that maybe only reviewed once, but still told me that they loved what I was doing. You all encouraged me to continue writing. Then there were the people that were extra patient with me when I went through several hiatuses, and especially on this last story, which took me well over six months to finish writing, whereas the others took only three. I thank you all for your time and appreciation. You have made my writing worthwhile.

Let's make this clear right now. There **will not** be a sequel to this story. This trilogy is going to remain a trilogy. So don't beg me for another story, because I still won't give you one. I have three other stories in the works right now that can be accessed on my profile page: _November Without You_, _White Guy, Dark Hair_, and _Secrets and Lies_ (the first chapter of this has yet to be posted), if you want to read more. All of them are very, very different from this story.

I think that's about it, everyone! I thank you all again for your dedication to this story and your support. I hope that you keep reading and keep enjoying these two amazing shows.

-Color Esperanza


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